


Cracked but not Broken

by numbika



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, M/M, Slow Burn, a lot of What IF in this fic guys, feel the angst, have fun, just give me time, other additional tags to be added as the story goes on, ther will be pairs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-10-31 07:12:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10894344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbika/pseuds/numbika
Summary: You would be suprised how easily the tides of history could have changed. A couple of particles of sand thrown into the dune in a different way, and the whole dune shifts by their weight. History is much the same. A couple of different choices can create an avalanche of differences…





	1. A grain of sand

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the readig. Have fun!

You would be suprised how easily the tides of history could have changed. A couple of particles of sand thrown into the dune in a different way, and the whole dune shifts by their weight. History is much the same. A couple of different choices can create an avalanche of differences…

  
Clearly the right choice to lead Overwatch was Jack Morrison. Not only he was far the most charismatic of the possible candidates, but also had a great…features in the eyes of the public. You can not just ignore the value of a handsome face when you are choosing a public representative. He was a real life American superhero. Gabriel Reyes on the other hand while was a great tactician and had a rough charm to him, was unable to handle big crowds and had a short temper, which would seriously hinder him with the reporters. And like that, in most of the worlds the sand had fallen into the same place, and history followed roughly the same path. Morrison became the representative of Overwatch as a whole, and Reyes were side lined into the equally important but controversial position of the leader of the Blackwatch, the espionage and black ops unit of the international organization. Morrison was slowly burned out as the constant public pressure got to him and Reyes grew increasingly bitter with his position and lack of reassurance…But you knew this story already. Let us talk about those few times when they reached a different decision.  
  
The decision was to create a joint position. Gabriel Reyes and James Morrison would both act as the leader of the Overwatch. While Reyes would still mostly be the leader of Blackwatch, he would be attend to public events and sometimes talk to the media. This way the public would be more informed and Morrison would get his much needed breather off the job, when he feels himself close to burnout. It was a good plan. That’s why it is such a shame it didn’t work out as planned. At first everything was alright. Reyes even got a bit of unexpected popularity, particularly with teenagers and single ladies, his badass rough attitude found a great deal of interest in these circles. Most of the organizations operations still dealt with the pockets of omnic resistance and so politics played little or no part in their actions. But as the years have gone by and Overwatch started focusing on the fights against terrorist groups, extremists and high profile criminals, the media and the public opinion started to shift. More and more news outlet questioned the power the organization held, and if they are using it responsively.

As the problems started, the co-leaders relationship worsened. They started as friends but the disagreements over their methods drove them away from each other. Morrison resented Reyes apparent lack respect for the rules they have put in place in regards of conducting operations. Gabriel often broke the protocol during missions, and although there were always good reasons behind it, as Jack said: “You can always find a good reason for anything Gabriel! Particularly if you search enough after you already done it!” To make matters worse, somebody leaked the mission reports of some of these operations to the public. The media gone insane, demanding a full investigation and shutdown of Blackwatch, and possibly Overwatch. Morrison would have obliged the request, but Reyes was furious about it. Having been in contact with the media at the start, he was able to meet a great deal of people whose life Overwatch saved or made better. Children’s he himself rescued from an organ trading warlord in the middle east, Omnics whom regained their free will from the god machine just to have to endure torture and attacks from an anti Omnic terrorist cell until Overwatch saved them. And many more, sometimes whole villages or cities. He just couldn’t let it go to waste. So, he refused the order, and done it publicly, citing the very same reasons just mentioned. Quite a lot of people agreed with him, much more disagreed. And the civilian leadership of the world ordered his immediate capture and court martial. Reyes and most of those whom supported the continuation of Overwatch holed themselves up in the organizations Swiss HQ, although rumours have it, Reyes ordered some of his most trusted people to go underground in case of his capture and trial. If this is indeed true then this was a remarkable foresight on his side, because the day which became known of “The day of the Siege” in the swiss media, ended in a fiery tragedy.  The UN sent Jack Morrison, to, as he transcribed it into his personal logs “Clean up his mess.”  The former leader of Overwatch accepted the assignment, stating he let Reyes loose cannon tendencies “poison” the organization, and that he will “Bring back order, whatever the cost is. “.

The plan was to deal a precise and fast strike against the leader of the rebellious Overwatch agents, if Gabriel is dead, then the others would give up the fight. Nobody knows exactly what happened that day but approximately thirty four minutes after the strike team breached the building, a gigantic explosion shredded most of the Swiss HQ. The blast toppled almost all of the structures inside the borders of the facility. Both Morrison and Reyes were presumed dead. No one could have survived such an apocalyptic event. Still…Overwatch would not end on that day. Either the rumours were true and Reyes did indeed foresaw the destruction, or some of the agents whom originally supported the disbandment had a change of heart after the event. Regardless of which one is true, Overwatch is still in operation, although in much smaller scale than its predecessor. Now operating as an elite vigilante force, they try to help where they can. The contemporary Overwatch lead by the enigmatic “Archangel” are hell bent on halting the advancement of Talon. The erstwhile terrorist group, now international paramilitary organization with a continuously expanding sphere of influence.  Some countries openly declaring their support to one side or the other, the tensions threatens to erupt into a full scale war. And Talon haven’t even showed his trump card yet…  
  
\- Tell me more about the attack on Helix.- Said a coarse voice among the shadows. The lonesome light source in the room was an old LED-lamp in the ceiling. Its meagre light drew a small circle around the recipient of these words. He looked like an old timey cowboy who somehow got transported to the future and given serious augmentations. He wore a black outfit, with a cowboy hat in the same shade. The only colourful spot in his entire attire were two small Overwatch insignia in his hat, and in his shoulder. The insignia was slightly redesigned, now permanently featured a huge crack in its ring shaped exterior. Oh, and before I forget, he also wore a golden belt buckle with the acronym “BAMF”.  
\- He killed a couple of the guards. But only those that got in his way. He successfully stole an experimental Heavy Pulse Rifle.-Said the cowboy while he took out a cigar from his pocket and slowly rolled in his fingers.- And we also got some pictures from the security cameras. Although most of them badly damaged. We got kind of lucky even with these, turns out Helix isn’t the head honco in the security business for nothin’. They set up the cameras so you could not see them until they see you. He took them out almost as soon as he got in the picture, but it was too late. Still, whoever this guy is, he is a mean son of a bitch.-The man in the shadows nodded a little bit. The whole operation reeked of professionalism. The perpetrator most have at least serious black ops training, maybe even Overwatch. This was the troubling option. If it is a rogue former agent, they have the responsibility to stop him.  
\- Anything else I need to know?- Asked the baritone again. The cowboy looked thoughtful and then took out an old zippo with a ranger star motif from another one of his pocked and lit up his cigar.  
\- Well, there might have be somethin’ else. Its a bit smudged, but the attacker had a symbol on his chest. I swear it’s a Talon symbol in a blue circle. -The voice let out a small growl like sound of frustration. An ex-Overwatch agent working for Talon. That’s sounded like a recipe for a huge disaster.  
\- Thank you, Jesse. You can go now. -Said the other half of the conversation in the dark but the cowboy remained motionless save for the small movements necessary to smoke a cigar. - Would you like something else?  
\- When willya show your miserable face again?-The air in the room grew chilly all of a sudden.  
\- What did you say to me Mcree?-Asked the voice now filled with barely concealed anger.  
\- You heard me you old fart. I don’t give a donkey’s ass about what happened your pretty boy demeanour. We all lost something. Hell, half of us something greater than a limb or two. And now this new Talon guy. Its tome to drag your mangled ass out of your hidey hole into the field. Come on Rey… -The voice flared up, like somebody sprayed gasoline into a campfire.  
\- THAT’S NOT MY NAME. - The cowboy named Jesse almost took a step backwards. The voice continued, it was much calmer now, but deep pain mingled with it. – That man is dead, and I look like the more rotten half of his corpse.  
\- Then you better start at least ACTING like you were alive! Do we need to have this shit again and again? Overwatch needs you. Not just giving orders, but out there on the field. Especially now that it looks like Talon got another ace up his sleeve. – The voice appeared to consider this a while.  
\- I understand. But until it’s absolutely necessary, please don’t force my hand. When I have no other choice, I will do what I have to. – Jesse just grunted and made a dismissive hand gesture waving around the cigar smoke before turning around.  
\- If you are so full of fear. Then the man I know may really be dead. Adios amigo. – And with that, and the small metallic clang of the reinforced steel door, he left the room. There was silence for a couple of second, and then a hand covered in burn scars hovered above a small console. Its sprung to life glowing slightly. After a small beep the voice spoke again.  
\- Angela. Please contact Phoenix and escort him to your laboratory. I might have to return to the field, but I need both of you to help with it.


	2. Wasteland Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The apperence of Pheonix and the story of the outback.

The Australian outback was always a wild place. Even in the face of the advancement of science and technology it remained one of the few places where you could be face to face with nature with all its glory and danger. And with it, one of the few places where you could watch the stars without the hindrance of the light pollution given of by big human communities.

Among the nameless red rocks, small heat tolerant plants and dirt roads leading from nowhere to nowhere, once existed a small research outpost. In its name, it was categorised as an Eco-point, but only about half of its functions were dedicated to atmospheric research. The other half was treated as free space for discoveries and it’s staff were composed of a diverse group of biologist, astrophysicist, astrologist, geologist, together with scientist and researchers from any other field which could potentially benefit from the enormous untapped potential of the outback.

Besides the Eco-point most of the residents in the outback were survivalists, farmers and all other lonesome type of people, most of whom were at worst, indifferent about the scientists. Some people initially feared they will somehow change or tame the outback-which of course never would have happened-but the payment the scientist gave for tours to interesting rock formations, or to the habitat of some godforsaken ugly lizards, quickly made the settlers of the outback realise they were still just tourists after all.

They just a little bit more careful and permanents sorts. The first were always appreciated, nothing sting an outback farmers eye more than to find a couple of plastic bottle in the middle off nature, and the second were tolerable. Some of the survivalist even found friends among the scientist, it plays off not having to take your sick daughter to a six-hour car drive, when the research station only an hour away have a functioning medical room with doctors and a little bit of antibiotic to spare. Things only became heated once the government decided to grant the Outback to the Australian Omnics. The residents of the outback were to pack their livelihoods and leave the area. As you can probably imagine, this didn’t go well with them.

They refused, and conducted a guerrilla war against the newly arrived Omnics in the area. The scientist did not want to pick sides, but some of the outback residents took this as a betrayal. When they arrived at the research station they demanded the scientist leave with them, and help their efforts, or face their judgement. Not wishing to contribute to a pointless war, and the attackers were given no answer. The outbackers attacked the compound, and although the scientists were better equipped they were but a few, and were no fighters. No doubt they would have been wiped out if not for the explosion event.

On the height of the fight, an independent group of freedom fighters, broke into the Australian Omnium and detonated its fusion core. Do to the closeness of the omnium those who were outside were blown away by the blast. Most of those who were inside fared not much better, the effects of the radiation from the initial blast killed them within days. There was only one survivor. A little boy, closed into the panic room of the Eco-point station, deep within the bowels of the facility. His parents were most likely both scientists whom closed him there to be safe from the fighting, although he never told anybody if he could remember them or not. The panic room had thick walls, independent water and air filtration system and supplies for a couple of adults for days. They were more than enough for the kid for almost a month.

By the time hunger and loneliness drove him out of there, the sky was oily sickly green, and most of the flora and fauna were irreversibly changed. Although there was no living human on sight, the boy wasn’t alone. Patroclos the Eco-points artificial intelligence was functional although damaged. It was unable to connect with the outside world or repair its damaged circuits but was able to communicate with the boy using the facility internal com system. Using the personal and research logs left by the scientist and the wast amount of data about the Outback stored within its drives, it successfully formulated a plan to keep the boy alive, even in the irradiated wasteland…

Years have gone by, the outside world hasn’t contacted them, most of them never thought they existed, and does who knew about the outpost assumed it was destroyed when the fusion core blew up. The kid grew, having nothing to do but read science books, scavenge the ruins of the old Omnium and build gadgets and machines of the old machinery. He even built a primitive hovercraft as an escape vehicle, although he never had enough courage to do it. The ruins of the facility were the only thing he ever knew, and Patroclos the only person he ever talked to, he wasn’t even sure if there is anyone else on the whole continent.

So, he stayed, and studied the textbooks, memorised the data, he even dug up old memory cores from the Omnium…He might have grew old in there if he haven’t met that man one day. He was an outbacker, or as the remnants of them called themselves: Junker. And an old one of that, grizzled veteran, long since tired of fighting. As he later told the boy he come to the core of the wasteland to die. He had his hand in the plan which led to the destruction of his home all those years ago, and he only survived because he suffered a major injury in a few days before it was implemented. He felt the shockwave even from basecamp. The man once had a family, a house before the explosion took it all away. After that, he was forever empty. Lived, walked, talked, but was already a dead man. He realised that they brought all this upon themselves, they never even tried to ask the Omnics about the situation. It’s a long shot, but they might have even agreed that the outbackers should stay.

Much of the land was empty after all, miles upon miles of unclaimed land, one could go for days without any sign of human habitation. And now all that vast landscape was tainted and poisoned. The day the two met was to be the last day of the old Junker. He burnt out the last shreds of his will to live a day before. Nothing major. Just one more ruined homestead, one more unburied corpse under the oily sky. Just one too many. He choose a form of suicide quite popular among the Junkers. A long walk straight into the heart of the omnium with minimal supplies and just enough water so you couldn’t just turn back by the time you emptied your can. But by sheer luck or something else, this Junker visited the ruins of the research station on its way to the omnium. And there he found the boy…And a new reason to live.

Jamison Fawkes was quite busy at the moment. He just finished performing a minor calibration on his leg and started an upgrade on his magneto-gravitic trap. It was a little bit slower with his new prosthetics, he had to settle into the feeling. At least he could throw out the peg leg. The journey from Australia was a perilous one and even with the help of his friend and self-proclaimed bodyguard, cost him an arm and a leg. Literally. It was only matter of luck that he and Roadhog even got out of Korea.  But the data packets he retrieved from the Australian omnium could facilitate a long-lasting peace between Omnics and Humans, or at least that’s what little he could decode suggested… Anyway, that was still in the future. Right now, he was working with Overwatch.

The Australian Eco-Points data core contained a fair bit of information about the organization, mostly positive. Having no other allies, it seemed right a good idea to join. He started to reconsider the validity of his decision though, if only for the sheer workload they dumped on him. Turns out most legitimate scientist like a steady job without the real possibility to get shoot on a normal sunny Wednesday, and don’t wish to join a vigilante organization. He on the other hand while according to Patroclos holds enough knowledge in his messy haired head to be eligible to at least a dozen PHD on a variety of fields, had no actual education. Everything he knew was from logs, books, and data packets, and those were at least a decade out of date. Combine this with his survival skills, and natural born talent for tinkering, and he was perfect for Overwatch.

Jamison hasn’t even finished screwing of the first panel on his trap when the labs door let out a small hiss and opened. In the doorway stood a fair haired blond woman with a clipboard in her hands.  
-Phoenix. - Nodded the women inviting herself into the room. - Messy as always I see.- Looking around Jamison figured she must be right. Growing up alone he never needed more cleaning beside what was absolutely necessary, so had a habit of leaving things laying around. A small screwdriver there, a bundle of cables there, right beside them a can of cooling liquid on top of a couple of science magazines.  
\- Mercy. - Answered Jamison with the same courteous nod he received.

Turns out in the contemporary Overwatch most of the agents had codenames and used them in missions and on the base, only the closest friends used their actual names even in private conversations. He quite liked this, actually. He felt himself closer to Roadhog, and even to Patroclos someway. Although the AI now laid deactivated in the depth of the Eco-Point. They couldn’t bring it along the way, and it insisted to be deactivated. The AI suffered serious degradation during the decades, it was his wish to never be activated again.

That was almost three years ago, and however sentimental or pointless it is, Jamison still remembers Patroclos by being alone for one day every year for its anniversary. As for why Phoenix, he guessed because he come from Australia. Most of which was nothing more than ashes nowadays. That or because he got a certain fondness for explosive weaponry. 

– What brings you here? Don’t tell me one of the rotors in the jet blew up again?

The woman slowly shook her head and put her clipboard atop a nearby pile of machine parts.  
\- It’s about Archangel. He said, he might have to go back to the field, and needs new weaponry. I assume you would be the one to design and make it.

The Australian blinked once or twice and almost compulsively twitched his shoulder a little.  
\- Me? Why…Why not the Swedish guy? From the Ironclad guild, I have been told he was the best at things like this. I would have to design some completely new pieces, haven’t I? I only did that a couple of times before, I mostly just modify, I am not sure I am capable. I mean most of my things…Hehehehhi.- He let out a laugh which sounded a little bit deranged. He had a number of small behavioural ticks like this, no doubt as a result of living alone for so long. He tried to keep them under control, but when he was excited or stressed they inevitably came out again. -  Blew up by design.  
\- Breathe a little Phoenix. - Nodded Angela stepping closer a little. – Deep breaths, the “Swedish guy” is not available right now. He had a run in with an Omnic somewhere who he said needed some guidance. -Jamison gave her an incredulous look. - I know, but that was his massage. But don’t worry you are going to do a fine job. Just think about it, creating a new thing is just to modify something else a little bit further. -Well, she was mostly right about that, wasn’t she? He could do it if he had to. And if he had to, he is going to do the best he can.  
\- Right, you are right. Thank you, Mercy, when should I start? - The women looked a little bit sheepish and coughed a small courteous cough.  
\- Now. He is on its way to my laboratory at the moment and I think he already have in my what your equipment has to do. – Jamison could feel his left eye beginning to twitch.  
\- And, I assume the deadline is…  
\- As soon as possible I’m afraid. If it is a comfort I have to do just as much work in the same amount of time to get him on his feet again. - Jamison nodded and with a small sigh of frustration pulled out a small leather bag from under a pile of scrap. The pile shifted a little and gave out a small:” clang” noise as something fell out of it and landed on the floor. Jamison dusted of the bag and with a motion of his hand swept most of the contents of his table into it, then he turned around and threw some other seemingly random collection of tools into it. Finally, he closed it with a loud snap.  
\- Okay, I got everything. Let’s go to Archangel.- Mercy nodded and walked out of the room.

She wasn’t a slightest bit surprised when a huge siluette emerged from a shadow at the other side of the laboratory and started to follow them. Still, she had to ask.  
\- Your friend is coming too? - Although the question was aimed to Jamison, the answer came from the Human colossus now standing right behind him.  
\- Where he goes, I go.-Said the man placing his big hand protectively on Jamisons head. The tinkerer posture which just a moment ago just radiated stress and anxiety now slowly relaxed.  
\- Yes, Roadhog is my friend. He is coming. -Angela looked up and met Roadhogs gaze. She never seen him without his gas mask, but she was sure his eyes were just as cold and menacing as the lifeless glass. Jamison was an alright guy, maybe a little bit weird, but his “bodyguard” could have been the textbook picture beside the phrase “cold blooded psychopath”. She could never know what he was thinking and whenever she had to be close to him she could feel the cold sweat slowly rolling down her back.  
\- Sure…No point arguing then. Let’s go.


	3. Things of the past and the future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two bits of information about the changes in the world, and Phoenix briefed about his job.

A yakuza had to be strong, clever, fearsome and above all else, had to have honour. Such qualities forged the leaders of the Shimada clan since centuries.  
It was such a shame that of the newest generation only one of the two scions of the Dragon had all of these attributes. Both were strong, clever, even fearsome in their own way, but the younger one valued the luxuries and pleasures of the world more than his own family. Their father cherished them both, but after he seen how his older brother, raised according to the wishes of the clan, became cold and distant by the time he became 10, he started to pamper the younger one. The old dragon tried everything to give both of his children a proper childhood but the older one remained cold, and his younger brother became hedonistic and rebellious. Truth to be told, no matter how hard he tried he wasn’t a very good father, he himself were brought upon according the wishes of the family council in his time and even though by the time he became a father he realised how wrong this was, he just didn’t know how to do it right. By the time he died, it was obvious that the more responsible elder brother Hanzo would succeed him as the head of the Shimada clan. Since he trained for this in his whole life, he seen no problem with the prospect. But the council was worried about the younger brother, Genji. While he never shown any desire for the responsibility, he could have been used by the enemies of the clan to hurt the yakuza organization, or even challenge his brother for the worldly gains. They instructed Hanzo to straighten out his brother, or failing that, kill him. Only a week after the old dragon died, his two sons were fought a battle to the death.

When Hanzo arrived, his brother was playing on his computer, eating junk food, being the same spoiled child he ever was. He was so surprised when Hanzo tossed his sword into his lap, he couldn’t even answer him when told him to make a choice: Either he returns to the path meant for a Shimada and live his life according to the wishes of a council, or take the sword and try to defend himself because he will die tonight by his arrow. Genji asked his brother to reconsider, he still loved him, and wished no harm upon him. But Hanzo didn’t listen, he had a duty to protect the clan, even if this duty required him to kill his brother. He fired one arrow, just an inch away from his brothers face, and told him the second one won’t miss, so either he accepts the wishes of the council, take his sword and fight, or die like a coward. Not wishing to become a puppet of the elders, Genji lifted his sword and with tears in his eyes, accepted his brothers challenge.

The fight was surprisingly even. Although Hanzo rigorously followed his routine and used his bow every day, Genji trained with his sword for the same reason he did anything else, because it relaxed him and he enjoyed it. Hanzo was a perfectionist and practiced his aim rigorously, perfected every stance and tactic, Genji were an unpredictable chaotic quick thinker with a raw talent to match. The fight lasted for hours, they started in the great hall but made their way into the roof of the compound, destroying countless rooms in the process. In the end it, when both brothers were exhausted it came down to one crucial moment. Hanzo intended to end the fight with the clan’s ancestral technique. He reached deep inside him, and awakened the dragons of the Shimada. His tattoos flared up with blue energy, and with his last arrow he unleashed the spirits. But Genji was just one step closer he expected him to be. Almost like a reflex, without even thinking, his brothers armed moved and with a flash of his blade, he reflected the arrow before the dragons manifested. The energy, blindly following the path the projectile paved for it, made a sharp turn. Hanzo never had a chance to dodge it. The two blue dragons engulfed him with a deafening roar, he felt the pain as the energy tore into his body, seared his flesh...Then he fell from the tower into the dark street below.

Along the road to the wider world Jamison have seen quite a few crippled people, particularly in Australia. People tortured by the wilderness, the radiation, accident or by their fellow humans but the man before him wouldn’t be out of place from the worst of them. He looked like somebody dragged him along a gravel road, before dozed him in gasoline. His left leg and arm were missing, and so is the left half of his face. Jamison could see his tongue through the hole in his face, even that had a scar. His face was covered with them, and Jamison assumed most of his body too under his black T-shirt and jeans, it was obvious he was badly burned a couple of years ago. His left eye and right face on the other hand were miraculously untouched. He caught the man’s gaze and looked the other way.  
\- Sorry sir. I just…- Started a weak apology but the man cleared his throat and spoke up with a deep coarse voice before he could finish it.  
\- No. Don’t be. I know how I look, even I couldn’t make my peace with it, how could anyone else. I am the one they call Archangel. - Jamison nodded a little. Figures, -He thought. -that explains why he remained in the shadows for all these time. – I assume Ange…Mercy explained it to you what do I require of you.  
\- Just that you want me to make your equipment. Nothing more, she said you will probably want to tell me the specifics yourself. And I have to tell you sir I have no idea why you choose me because frankly I…-The man raised his remaining hand. Even that had only 4 fingers on it. His ring finger were missing.  
\- I have no one else to turn to right now. -Archangel catched the slight twitch of its conversation partners mouth and how his stance got a little more tense.-At least no one else I would trust with a task of such importance. -Jamison relaxed a little. Maintaining the moral if his men was a tedious and tiring job for Archangel, something which came much more easily for his long-lost co-leader, still he had quite a bit of practice over the years. He liked to think he became at least average at it instead of being piss poor when he started. -Mercy could make me the appropriate prosthetics but I need more to be effective. I wish to use my old guns, but they might need to be redesigned slightly. Beside that I need something to get up close to somebody fast, so my shotguns could be really effective. I have vague idea what I want, but I have absolutely no scientific knowledge…-Said Archangel and reached out with his hand to a table close to him. The top of which was packed medical equipment, scalps, injections, small canisters of nanobots. All of them were meticulously arranged. Mercy were the complete opposite of Jamison when it came to organizing. Beside a particularly nasty looking saw were two thick document clipped together. Archangel took them and lightly threw them into Jamisons hand. He caught them and quickly read the covers. Their names were the “Slipstream project” and “Patient file 0021. Code name: “Tracer”. -Page trough them. I think you will find them quite interesting. The first one is about a prototype air fighter capable of space time, something....basically teleportation. The second one is about its pilot. After some successful tests the project were shelfed.  
\- Why? -Jamison asked while he opened the first one. In the page there was a cutaway diagram of a slim, graceful looking jet, where certain important internal elements were highlighted. -If it was successful?  
\- There were certain side effects for the pilot. -Nodded archangel while gesturing at the second document. -It was started as something small, but they were cumulative and progressive. By the time we realised what is happening there were nothing we could do. Lena Oxton suffered chronal dissociation.  
\- Chronal dissociation? -Asked Jamison while he shuffled the papers and opened the second document. -Frankly sir that sounds made up.- Archangel let his charred lips curl into a small dry smile.  
\- Because it is. She was the first, and I hope the only one who ever suffered by this condition. You could read more about it from that. I don’t really understand, but the document is very detailed so I assume you are going to. In the end, she was given some kind of device which stabilised her condition, although her psyche suffered a little by the ordeal. By the way the designer of the device gave me the idea about giving you this document. Dr. Winston theorised that the Slipstreams drive would not cause these problems if it were used only for a short distance instead of the kilometres the jet jumped.  
\- Really? -Archangel could almost see the gears starting to move inside Jamisons head. -It would be very helpful if I could speak to this Dr. Winston sir. Hearing his theories from first hand would…  
\- Sorry but it’s impossible for now. -Interrupted Archangel while he moved a little bit up in his chair. Jamison waited for a longer answer but after a couple of seconds it was clear that’s going to be the only explanation he would get.  
\- Understood. Then at least can I get any more information about him?  
\- He is a super intelligent gorilla from the moon. -Said Archangel with a deadpan face. Behind his conversation partner somebody started laughing in a deep grunt like voice. Jamison gave the owner of the voice a disapproving sulky look, Archangel almost jumped in his chair. Roadhog hardly ever spoke, it is hard to imagine but after a while the giant but silent colossus of a human slowly slipped out of attention. He became something like a furniture, you wouldn’t keep him in mind until he did something. You had to constantly remind yourself he is in the room and hears everything. Archangel wondered how much the man really know about the things going on around the base from silently listening to other people’s conversations. He allowed the giant man to join because Jamison refused to do so without him and he badly needed such an unappreciated wild genius. Still…he never really could read the man. He would only communicate in half sentences, never saying more than it was absolutely necessary, for all he know he could be just as smart as Jamison, a tactical genius slowly formulating plans, or simply dumb as a rock who constantly spaces out.  
\- A simple no would have done it sir. No need for sarcasm. -Murmured Jamison and closed the documents. -Anything else for the gear?  
\- No, just the weapon upgrade, and anything you can do with those documents to help me with my mobility. -Jamison nodded.  
\- I will do the best I can. You will not be disappointed sir.-And with that Jamison turned around and started to leave. He was already the door when Archangel suddenly spoke of. He was a little bit startled from the sudden deep voice.  
\- One more thing. Sorry, its just came into my mind. Your new limbs, how did it felt when they connected the nerves with the circuits? -Jamison looked back to the man and stepped back while Roadhog left before him. Most of the time he did that to ward of “assassins”.  
\- Honestly sir, it hurts like bloody fricken hell. -Archangel let out another small smile.  
\- Good. See you next time Phoenix, good luck with my equipment.

 

Talon was nothing if not persistent. That was one of the few good point of the terrorist organization. Years of hiding and striking at critical positions of their stronger enemy taught the leaders of Talon the value of patience and perseverance. There were a time where they met their match in the later. Gerard Delacroix, a masterful Overwatch agent hounded the organization with every bit of cleverness and resourcefulness he could muster for years on end. Talons operations were compromised, even some of their higher up’s fallen victim to the “French dog” as they called him. He had to be put out of the way if Talon wished to grow. The problem was, he was always watchful. Countless assassins fell in the pursuit of the man, until at last, Talon was successful with one of their actions against him. They were able to take his wife, Amélie Delacroix.

The women was surprisingly normal and meek compared to the vicious warrior her husband was. Still, some of the leadership of talon saw potential in the woman, and intended to turn her into something Talon could use. Ultimately the plan was voted down by the other leaders, they deemed It too costly and without guaranteed success. The woman was instead used as bait for her husband, and off course a good bait had to be fresh, so they left her alive, although they took one of her fingers to send to her husband. No matter how hardy man Delacroix was, that will certainly get his attention. When the trap was set. they let the information about her whereabouts “leak” out of the organization.  
Talons plan worked out, Gérard personally led a rescue operation to save his wife, he fully expected a trap but he wholly underestimated the magnitude of it. Not only Talon were on the scene, but also several other Terrorist cell, mercenary force, and a couple of high profile criminals who had problems with Overwatch in the past. When the Overwatch strike team arrived, the city turned into a literal war zone around them. After a day of gruelling fight through the city, the strike team were able to locate, and rescue Amélie. Unfortunately, the cost was high. From the twelve agents who volunteered for the mission, only 4 came back. And Gérard wasn’t among them. They had to steal a talon gunship to leave the city, but the organizations heavies found them when they tried to take off. Half a dozen soldiers with shoulder started ground to air missiles, they would have shredded the plane into nothing if Gérard wouldn’t have stopped them. He jumped off the plane while it was taken off and massacred the heavy weapon specialists…According to Agent Ana Amari, who was one of the four surviving agents she could see him fighting against waves and waves of Talon soldiers until his clip run out and were overwhelmed. Although this testimony is a little bit questionable since she suffered a serious head wound and lost a significant amount of blood and one of her eyes, if it weren’t enough she also was under the influence of heavy sedatives so she wouldn’t jump after Agent Delacroix. The aforementioned agent’s wife was successfully retrieved, but was devastated by the loss of her husband. She left her job as a ballet dancer in France and briefly disappeared from the public record, most likely still mourning the death of Gérard.

But Gérard wasn’t dead, or at least his body wasn’t. Talon wasn’t going to destroy something it could use. They captured him, and subjected him to hideous physical, mental, and chemical tortures. They used everything in their repertoire, nanobots stimulating every pain receptor inside his body, making him feel like every cell of his were individually on fire, chemicals prevented him to sleep meanwhile psychoactive ones conjured twisted and demonic images inside his head. The man was as hard as can be, he never said anything about Overwatch, but Talon never expected him to do so. They just systematically and slowly broke his mind, shattered the pieces, and grounded them to dust. After that it was simple matter to build something else to its place. Gérard Delacroix were no more, Talons Hound has taken its place…At first Overwatch were completely unaware of what hit them. The attacks were delivered with clockwork precisions, agents found dead with only a couple of high calibre pistol shoots inside their chests. It was not until half a year later after the first incident they got a partial picture about the perpetrator thanks to the security camera from a little bit paranoid home owner. It was placed in such a way that it could see a little above the owner’s fence right into an alley where one of the agents died, and got a small glimpse of the Talon operative. But that was more than enough, agents who knew Delacroix immediately recognised his profile. The order was that this information was in a strictly need to know basis and nobody beyond Overwatch should know about it. Even so, only days after the incident Amélie Delacroix appeared in front of the the international organizations Swiss HQ and demanded to be briefed about the incident. She seemed to know everything already, and so, by the orders of co-leader Reyes, she was given the information she requested. Amélie calmly read the report, thanked the agents for their help and left the building. The next day both Delacroix and Ana Amari disappeared without a trace… The attacks on Overwatch continued until the destruction of the Swiss HQ, despite the best efforts of leaders of the organization to stop them.


	4. Of damages and recoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We met Hanzo and Pharah and get a little bit of info about Winston.

Six shoots. Two of them landed right inside the little red dot in the middle of the target practice dummies head, three more right around it still hitting the head, and the last one flew beside it and embedded itself into the wall. McCree let out a dissatisfied grunt. It’s amazing how much his aiming could be impacted by his emotional state. Even more amazing that he was still angry after two days. He reloaded the gun and emptied it into the target dummy again. Now all of them impacted into the head area of the target. He almost started to fill his revolver with bullets once more when he heard the small whistle from the direction of the door. In the doorframe, there was a figure watching him.

Relatively tall, most of his body was covered in some kind of futuristic armour. It was designed to look vaguely like a samurais’ archers outfit. It even had a small armour skirt made out of metal pieces. The amour itself looked sleek and were most likely made from shock absorbent mixture of carbon fibres, Kevlar like hard plastics, ceramics, and titanium mesh. Its surface was run through with blue fluorescent lines, they started and ended up in individual metal caps, which were also glowing the same blue. If you knew the man, you were aware that the armour itself were the part of his body. He was a cyborg, the Overwatch picked him up after a terrible injury and practically rebuilt him. The only two fully organic things you could see on him was the upper half of his face, starting just above his jaws, and one of his arms which was covered in some kind of elaborate dragon tattoo.

\- Was that sarcastic whistle or are genuinely impressed one, Hanzo? - Asked McCree turning to meet the man’s gaze. The cyborg stepped into the room and studied the target at the other side of the room. It was about 4 hundred meters away.  
\- Pick the one that suits you. – McCree let out a small smile. The man was a jerk, but so is everyone in their own way, at least he could be talked to, even if he was a little tight ass.  
\- Then you should have seen the one just before that. I even missed one. - Said the cowboy and searched his pockets for a cigar. He found only two. Damn. He really started to use up his monthly supply. If this keeps up, he will be out at least a week before he can get another pack.  
\- You missed one whole shot. I think you should retire. You are clearly a disgrace for the organization. - Said Hanzo with something in his voice which could be mistaken for joviality.  
\- Thanks for the emotional support fucker. – Grinned McCree while he lit his cigar. - You are coming to practice too?  
\- Indeed. - Answered the cyborg then hefted his bow from his back and took out an arrow from his quiver. - It’s a good way to remember I am still human. Do you need some advice?  
\- From you? Thanks, but I don’t think you could show me anything about aiming that I didn’t know already. -The cyborg shook his head and let one arrow on its way. It flew through the room and embedded itself into the head of the target.  
\- Not about aiming, and not from me. From my sensei. He would say…- Hanzo cleared his throat and the next sentence came out perfectly emphasised and calm. - A soul which is not in balance, can wreak havoc in the body. Clear your mind, and let the bullet find its own way into the target. - McCree grunted and breath out a puff of smoke.  
\- Sorry sweetheart but I’m not into that zen crap. I think if my soul suddenly found himself in harmony it would surely shut itself down from the shock. I just need a stiff drink, preferably whiskey, maybe tequila. Oh and to hit somebody. - Hanzo shot another arrow and put his bow down.  
\- Hmm. Do you really think that will help? - McCree gave him a shrug and let out another puff of smoke.  
\- Mostly it does, anyway, want to compete? I bet I could still beat you. - Hanzo gave him a disparaging look.  
\- Thanks to my master, I have risen above such petty things.  
\- I thought he himself said you need to be more open and have some fun hasn’t he? But if you are chicken…- Hanzo grunted.

Well, it was true. His master did indeed said he need to let himself go sometimes. After his fateful battle with Genji it was Overwatch who rebuilt him, but it was Zanyetta who gave him back his life. Overwatch gave him a new body so he could be useful against his own family, a thing he refused to cooperate with, but he volunteered to help them in any other way. After all, he owed them his life, and he was lost without the clan, but he couldn’t return. He was given a mission, a very clear one. And he was unable to accomplish it. He couldn’t face them, he betrayed the clan by trying to kill his brother as they asked, and failing. Still, he felt himself, behind all the pain and resentment, a little bit glad. His brother was alive, he didn’t had to end his life. The missions and the orders helped him cope with the situation. Being clan less, being a cyborg, being alone and nothing. When he was on mission he forgot about all of them, and concentrated on the objective at hand. At least until he got the task to protect the omnic monk Zanyetta on his worldwide pilgrimage.

For Hanzo it started just as any other mission, but the Shamballan have seen something in the archer, deep seated pain, discord and imbalance. He had to help the cyborg. After much pestering, and more than a couple long monologue from the monk, Hanzo told him his tale. As the omnic said:” You and your Genji are the same kind of bird but with different problems. He didn’t know when to land from the air, and you never even learned how to fly. “If Hanzo thought after that Zanyetta are going to stop with the questioning, he was surely mistaken. Still, as time have gone by, and Hanzo heard the omnic talking more, and he himself living what he preached, he found truth in the long sermons he was given. While he was away, the incident of the Swiss Hq occurred and Overwatch were officially shut down. Having nothing else to do, he followed the monk into his monastery and remained there for years, learning and listening, until by sheer luck, the news about the organization surviving as a vigilante group reached him. Feeling he still had something to repay to them for saving his life, and giving him the mission which led him to the meeting with Zanyetta, he made a request to the monks to be allowed to leave. He was informed that he is his own man, and he could go wherever he wanted. He was given supplies, and a communicator, on which he could contact the monastery whenever he wished for…His journey to re-join Overwatch was a little bit rocky, and they were cautious about him at first, but nowadays he was a valued member.

\- As you wish cowboy, I will compete with you.- Said Hanzo with a small nod.- But, and I can’t stress this enough, I won’t hug you when you start to cry after you have lost.- McCree’s grin widened and he cracked his shoulder.  
\- Alright Robin Hood, you asked for it…- The two man straightened themselves out, and readied their weapons.- On the count of three.  
\- Hey kids, is there a plus place reserved for an old timer?- Asked suddenly a deep voice from the doorway.

\----

The death of a loved one can change a person. Why would it be different for apes? The day Winston lost his adoptive father was the darkest he ever experienced. Deep inside he somehow understood the other gorillas desire to freedom, what he couldn’t understand was the brutality they wished to achieved it. The massacred the staff of the moon base, killed any human inside. At that time Winston were studied the stars from a small hobby observatory the designers put in place on the facility. It was mostly for relaxation, wasn’t designed for making serious scientific progress. It didn’t bother Winston, it was enough for him, he just discovered an asteroid on an interesting orbit. It was irregular which suggested it suffered a minor collision with one of its siblings in the recent past, and had no time to reach a more stable path. He found it the most interesting…He was only razed from his calm calculating and measuring when he heard the screams.

He found that the base was mostly deserted. It was most ominous, especially when he found a blood mark, which suggested its owner where dragged in the direction of the great hall. It was the place where the scientist presented their findings on a weekly basis, celebrated the holidays, or simply enjoyed a heated discussion about scientific topics. With his heart beating in his throat he followed the blood. By the time, he arrived to the Great Hall, it was covered in blood. The gorillas stood around the circle, inside it where the remains of the humans. Beaten to death by giant knuckles, most of them looked absolutely broken, some even had bite marks in them. Off course gorillas never ate meat but they used their fangs in battle if it was absolutely necessary or they were frenzied. And atop the pile of remains…He saw his adoptive father. His neck was broken and so was his spine, he most likely suffered less than the others, maybe because he was always kind to every gorilla, but he was human, and so had to die. Winston cried out in pain and grief, he jumped and tried to heave down his father’s corpse from the heap, but the other gorillas held him down. The biggest oldest male gorilla on the base, Lucius slowly knuckled out from its compatriots. He told him the humans had to die. They tried to control them, they were treated them like slaves.

Winston would have spat in face if the other gorillas wouldn’t have held his head down, into a subservient position. He knew the older male words were full of lies. The gorillas although wouldn’t treated equally, they were far from slaves. They trained them to operate some of the machinery but that’s only so that if anything happened to the human staff they wouldn’t die. They weren’t allowed into certain areas of the base because most of them were quite dangerous, and they were unable manufacture safety gear which were strong enough so a careless gorilla wouldn’t tear it open. The biological research lab contained viruses, bacteria and parasites so dangerous that they were studied here so they could never infect anybody on earth. The physics lab routinely worked with lasers and radiation. And the “test” they conducted on them where limited to non-invasive procedures, designed to test how their musculature changes under the low gravity environment. Lucius spoke further, he told them that they are now superior than humans, how else they could have killed them? When he finished, he ordered the gorillas to throw Winston into his room, and dispatch de bodies. The desperate Winston where only able to grab his father’s glasses before they dragged him away…  
Something snapped in Winston that day. He appeared to have accepted Luciuses reasoning after all. After only a week he was out from his room, they needed him, he was the smartest among them. Most of the gorillas were intelligent only compared to their not artificially evolved siblings, they could walk, talk use things, the cleverer of them were on the same level as average human. Winston on the other hand…He was a whole other story. He was a genius on his own right even among humans. His stepfather said if brains were brawn he could beat up all the scientist combined in the base…That memory was felt like a foreboding tragic thing to Winston now.

He helped the other gorillas in maintaining the base, and at night he worked in one of the labs, he declared as personal. In hindsight Lucius should have watched him more carefully, but he was short-sighted and ambitious, so he wouldn’t minded him as long as everything was operational. This short sightedness cost everything to the pack leader, if he would have kept an eye on Winston he hadn’t been that surprised when the younger gorilla suddenly arrived to the “Throne Room” as the great hall was now called, covered in some kind of iron armour wielding a rod of metal crackling with energy. His eyes were burning with fury, but he appeared to be calm and collected in the outside. The leader of the rebellious gorillas couldn’t even finish the angry question before a lighting, like the width of a human arm, struck him in the middle of his chest. He bellowed in pain for the help of his retainers…But the two other Gorilla beside him where also curled up, screaming from the horrendous pain, they too had an arc of energy connecting them to the rod. He tried to reach out and grab the weapon…but he lost control of his limbs. They were spasming uncontrollably. The biggest gorilla on the station, the prospective leader of the new all gorilla colony on the moon died screaming and wailing in the puddle of his own piss. And so is his left and right arm gorillas, charred and burned crumpling into the floor. The gorillas were horrified, yes they killed humans, but gorillas hardly ever killed their own, and never like this. It looked like Winston understood the look.  
-“You all think this is inhumane isn’t it? But that’s what you wanted isn’t it? You didn’t wanted to be human. You wanted to be something else. Let it be known, from now I am the leader of this colony. And I will say this once and only once so you better remember. The humans were too kind, they forgave when you all acted like a bratty child, when you bit their hands, when you knocked over important vials, and you repaid this by slaughtering them all like they were cattle. So, if that’s how you want it. So be it. I am not kind. This is a moon station, we only need useful and thinking persons. Be it simian or human. I enforce a strong no pets policy, so if I encounter a rabid animal…”-At this point Winston took a stepped up and slowly crushed the skull of the burnt corpse which was once Lucius, the leader of the rebellion against humans. “…I will personally put it down.”

The first attempt on his live were occurred on the very next day, but he was ready. The attacker ended up so thoroughly charred, the others couldn’t identify it as a gorilla first. There was a second one after that, with three more causalities, and no more. No one else wanted to challenge Director Winston anymore. Truth to be told he wasn’t a bad leader, and the gorillas slowly but surely accepted him as theirs. Winston run an education program to further train his compatriots about the workings of the moon base, he even built new facilities to expand the base in the case of the gorillas overpopulating. He accepted a relatively civilised legal code based on the moon bases code of conduct. The philosophy of the base became “We are gorillas, not animals.” and the rebellion against the scientist where treated as the darkest point of their, one of which they eventually have to make atonement for. But nothing last forever, after a couple of years later the moon bases stockpiles started to run low. They had hydroponics, a sophisticated CO2/O2 recycling system, and a fusion plant. What they didn’t have were the capability to replicate delicate machinery. The chips controlling the environment systems, the small parts of the reactor, the lamps providing the light for the plants, slowly but surely started to break down. The base was never designed to be self-sufficient for so long, even at the worst times before the rebellion, spaceships came every half year. Now they were absent for about five. Without the crucial equipment, the gorillas calculated that the Base would lose its ability to sustain simian life after three more years, possibly four if they jury rig some of the systems. Something had to be done. They had to contact the humans, but after what they did, nobody were sure if they would help or not. To make matters worse, Lucius and his lackey destroyed the base capability to contact with Earth. Somebody had to go there somehow. The director himself volunteered, he never hurt any human, and he is the leader of the Base now, so, he reasoned, he might have better chance of hammering out some kind off agreement than anyone else. With joint effort, and with the cannibalization of some of the older tech, the previous human moon missions left on the planetoid they built a small one person craft. Winston left his most trusted gorilla as the leader while he is away, and launched himself to his fore long home world.

\----

Fareeha Amari stepped into the hospital room. This was a private hospital, it was created to treat the employees of the Helix Security organization securely and with the best possible equipment money could buy, and so despite the calm of the sterile environment, the walls blinked with the constant work of sophisticated machinery. The medical sensors were capable of detecting the first sings of a patient’s deterioration and immediately call a doctor, while automatically administering the necessary chemical treatment. It was even able to detect the minor ion inbalance in the heart before a cardiac arrest could occur and prevent it with an automated drug injection system. The room had only one occupant, now resting in the bed. It was a male, around his thirties, his torso was covered with long strips of bandages. They must have been freshly changed because they were spotless.

-Lieutenant Armano? - Spoke up Fareeha and the man in the bed jolted his head in her direction. He had a bushy moustache and a small scar in his cheek.  
\- Yes…And you…-The man noticed the small insignia in the woman’s ceremonial uniform. It looked brand new. He gave her a small salute. - Major?  
\- Major Fareeha Amari. - She returned the salute.- I was tasked with investigating the incident you reported. Can we talk? - The man gave her a small nod.  
\- Yes ma’am but most of it is already in my report. I don’t know If I can tell you anything new. - The major nodded a little and stepped closer. The man looked healthy, if severely exhausted. You couldn’t tell he got had at least 6 major shot wound. The wonders of modern medicine. - Thought Fareeha.  
\- I am sure you wrote your report properly, but I like to hear from the source. I found that talking to the actual witnesses are better, when you write down an official report you usually leave out the impressions and feelings you had during the incident and try to be factual. Those can be informative as well. So please humour me, and tell me what happened. - The lieutenant nodded and sit up on his bed. He winced a little, even though the hospitals sophisticated machinery where quick to heal surface injuries, the internal ones are an entirely different matter. He barely had any unbroken ribs when he arrived and they still take at least two weeks to completely heal, instead of the five days he had been there.  
\- Well, we have been dispatched to the facility after its security system sent an automated alarm to HQ. Since they couldn’t reach front desk they followed protocol and assumed the worse, that It was a break in. Since the research facility were used to store and study the prototypes, papers, and data from a number of former Overwatch development projects, we were in red alert. Some of the things there could worth millions for the right buyer, some could be used to start new wars, and a couple could do both, and more. - The man coughed a little and winced from the pain this caused. - Anyway, our squad was sent, under the leadership of captain Zháó. He was a good man…-Armano sighed a little. - When we arrived to the facility it was dead silent. Lights out, no guards at the gate. We knew we are in it for a bad time, they had to be professionals otherwise there would be more signs of fighting. I guess we were right It was a professional, but alone.  
\- So, It is true, it was one man who wiped your whole squad. - Murmured slowly Fareeha. In the event of a red code alert the responders are authorized to use their Raptora suits. Although theirs were a little bit out of date Raptora Mark V., it should have been more than enough to deal with one intruder. Hell, there were reports of minimal numbers of Mark V users taking out entire camps of enemy combatants a couple of years ago, when a smaller warlord tried to pillage a research facility guarded by Helix, in South America.  
-No.- Answered the man sharply with sudden pain contorting his face. - Sorry ma’am, it just that It wasn’t a man…I mean it was. It…He was just…  
\- It is okay Lieutenant. Please continue. - Said Fareeha while watching the man’s face. It was obvious the incident was quite traumatic, and the only thing keeping the man together is his military training and his mental fortitude.  
\- First, we secured the perimeter, we found the two men tasked with guarding the gate. One of them had his pistol out, he was dead. The other were knocked out cold, we couldn’t wake him up so Captain Zháó told us to move him into a relatively secure location before we advanced further. We were almost at the front entrance when its somebody appeared in the hallway. At first, I assumed it was another surviving guard, but he was too calm. When he stepped out of the dark building, we realized he wasn’t ours. The man had short grey hair, a long facial scar, some kind of visor and the biggest pulse rifle I have ever seen. I think it was one of the prototypes from the building. The Captain ordered us to stay alert, and told the man that he should throw down his weapon and identify himself or he will be fired upon.  
\- What did the man said? - Armano gulped then continued.  
\- That he will give us one chance to surrender. That right here, right now we either put down OUR weapons or he will personally send us to the other side. Off course the captain told us to open fire, he was alone after all, and most enemies can’t aim to an unpredictably flying target. At first, when the rockets impacted, we thought we got him. But when the smoke cleared, he stood there, enveloped in dark…smoke? Miasma? I couldn’t tell, it was something out of this world. He took six rockets to his face, and stood there like it was nothing. Five of those things could shred a tank, six…He should have been mincemeat. Then…-Armano stopped for a second. The major waited for him to calm down. The Lieutenant slowly started again, his voice were cold and distant. - I remember one of my squad mates cried out:” Who the hell is this guy?” Then he lifted his hand up to his visor, and touched something on it, and answered…” I am the Revenant of an era of order. And I can see your soul…” It activated with a ghastly blue-green light, by the time any one of us could fire again half of my squad were dead…He just swung his rifle at us, from the hip, and never missed. The captain was the third or second to go down. I started to dive for cover… But I was too slow. He just mowed us down, like we were nothing but practice dummies. - The lieutenant gripped his blanket.- I was lucky I fell into a decorative bush…Otherwise I think he would have ended me right there…  
  
\- Anything else?- Asked Farehaa after a couple of seconds of silence. The man seemed a little reluctant to answer.  
\- There was one more thing…But I think It might not be of much use.  
\- Just tell me, the more we know the better. Right now we are pretty short on any information.  
\- Alright, but please major, don’t spread that it was me who told you this. - Asked Armano with obvious nervousness.- If somebody heard this, I would be kicked out for sure because of mental health problems.  
\- My lips are sealed.- Farehaa told him. After all the company would only want verifiable factual information, she came from some additional one for various reasons.  
\- Before I lost consciousness I saw the man kneel beside Captain Zháo. It looked like, he was grabbing and eating something from it. But there was nothing in his hands…He grabbed nothing. But after he finished, he looked somehow more…Energized maybe? But I am not sure. I lost a lot of blood. -The major took a mental note on that. It sounded very farfetched, but so is that one man can wipe a whole squad of elite Helix Guards.  
\- Thank you lieutenant. Please contact me if you remember anything else. My condolences for your squad and have a quick recovery.  
\- Thank you Major. - Armano gave her a salute, which she returned before leaving the room. The man needed some rest, and she had to continue her investigation. Also, this was something that might interest the other group she had contact with…


	5. Soldiers and their pasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn about Pharah's work with Overwatch, and the new leader of Talon.

After Overwatch was officially disbanded, and became an illegitimate vigilante organization, most of their assets were liquidated, but there was a fair bit of them which were too dangerous or valuable to simply discard. Prototype weapons, futuristic devices without proper blueprints, and off course, the most dangerous of them all, the vaults of the God A.I-s. The artificial intelligences which were ultimately responsible to the Omnic war, the first truly super intelligent computers.  
Most people thought they were designed as some kind of ultimate organiser, to help coordinate the numerous omnic types in their work for humanity and guide the world to a new age. Whatever their original function was they became the single greatest threat to continued human existence. To make the matter worse most of the data regarding them have been lost, either before or during the omnic crisis. What little remained pointed to several contingency methods in them to keep them from being destroyed. For one, most of them had several backup copies within the facility housing them, each capable of reactivating the AI if powered, and their mainframe were hard wired to their own nuclear fusion reactor constructed under the building. The exact nature of this hard wiring on the other hand were unclear. Before the incident in the Austral Omnium, some of them were slowly taken apart by Overwatch scientist to study and neutralize them. 

After the explosion showed how devastating can this type of fusion can be if damaged, these attempts were shut down by the UN, despite the protest of the people working on the projects. Vaults were constructed instead to isolate the God Programs, so even in the event of their reactivation, their influence wouldn’t spread. These Vaults were guarded by the best agents of the Overwatch. With the official disbandment these agents were gone, but the threat remained, so the UN had to act. Leaving the Vaults in the care of their respective countries were out of the question. The temptation to open them, and access the knowledge of how to control all Omnics hidden inside the mainframe of the God Machines would have been too big, even with the possibility of unleashing the A.I.-s. 

The solution revealed itself when an international security organization, Helix, made into the news by successfully defending a Numbanian embassy, which was attacked by the then prominent anti Omnic extremist group: Organic Heart. Despite the terrorist possessing military grade equipment and a three decommissioned Russian Razboynik fast assault mechs, the ambassador and most of the building survived. This was particularly impressive since the aforementioned mechs were each about the size of a family house. Although the Helix Security outpost stationed there lost about twenty-three men, (About 70% of their full strength.) their heroics ensued that the whole might of Organic Heart, three hundred combatants, ten tanks, and the three Razboynik were annihilated. The extremist organization never recovered, and while Helix both celebrated the performance of their Raptora IV and revolutionary Raptora V suits and mourned its losses, the UN contacted them. Such a big government contract after a quiet costly engagement meant that security organization was in great need of talented battle-ready man and woman to wear their uniform. 

One of these new aspirants were Fareeha Amari, who just freshly graduated the Egyptian military academy with all possible distinction and with excellent grades. Do to her exceptional abilities she quickly rose in the ranks within the company. Fareeha or by her callsign “Pharah” were a huge asset to the company, not only because of her own right, but also due to her being the daughter of a former well respected Overwatch agent, one which never participated in the fall off Overwatch, disappearing beforehand. Helix didn’t know that their rising star was, for lack of a better word, a double agent. The leader of the new Overwatch vigilante organization contacted her not long before her graduation from the academy and tasked her with joining Helix. By the time it was a public secret that the international security firm is going to be the one to replace Overwatch with the responsibility to guard the God Machines, and while they indeed had the technology necessary to such an endeavour, Archangel had to be sure they are taking their task seriously and never try to open the Vaults. Fareeha agreed on one condition, she will never betray an organization which he took an oath to protect, so she would act as an inside source, nothing more nothing less. She would pass on information she deemed wouldn’t hurt the company, but would help Overwatch in their quest to guard the world, but she would never act against Helix. Archangel deemed these terms acceptable and so, Fareeha joined the security company. During the years Fareeha worked with the firm, she leaked information about certain terrorist cells, extremists, gangs or others whom posed threat to both Helix and Overwatch.  
Although the company wasn’t aware of it, during the years Overwatch made their lives quite a bit easier. When attackers returned to their hideout after a failed or successful raid on Helix company assets, the weakened group often found themselves attacked by a group of elite agents from Overwatch and were completely eradicated, ensuring that they posed no further threat to either organization. Fareeha hoped this incident is going to end the same way, but she couldn’t disregard the growing unease in her soul...

 

Kašpar Novak wasn’t a happy camper that day. Considering he was a member of an international paramilitary organization, and a seasoned killer, it is fair to say he wasn’t a happy camper most of the days, but this particular one found him in a really foul mood. He had to meet the current leader of Talon, it wasn’t the first time but every additional experience chilled him to the bone just a little bit more. The guy was clearly not only mental, but also not entirely human. Under him Talon got more organised, had strict and merciless rules, but stepped up its influence in the international front. There was a couple of countries that they directly controlled from behind the curtains. Still, it was chilling talking to him…Hard to believe It all started only a couple of years ago. They found him not long after the explosion at the Overwatch Swiss HQ, some petty drug dealer just saw him wandering in a street aimlessly and sold the information to a Talon agent he happened to know. Pretty big coincidence if anybody would have asked Kašpar opinion, but nobody did. He suspected the higher ups at the time had some hand in that explosion, but it’s not like he is going to ask about that from them. Considering he didn’t really liked the idea to talk to more than one dead people today. When he arrived to the door its slid out of his way. It wasn’t automatic, he was just expected.

\- Sir. -He said stepping into the room. Its wall was covered with countless monitors, showing news, battle maps and the reports from certain Talon agents. The term “Sir” regarding to superiors was also a new addition to Talons vocabulary, before that they mostly used “Your highness”, codenames, or similar. He instituted it after he took over. And took over he did, pretty fast actually. At first, they tried to get information out of him regarding Overwatch facilities. They tortured him, but he hasn’t even flinched from the most painful physical and mental procedures. He just stared blankly to the wall, empty eyes. Or at least until one of his torturers during a procedure happened to drop him about Overwatch surviving as an illegitimate vigilante organization. That got to him, fuck does it got to him.  
-Yes Kašpar, I believe you know why have I called for you. How was my performance? Does it stirred up that little nest of hideous anarchy they call Overwatch nowadays? - Asked him the thing sitting in the chair. It was once might have been a man. Not anymore, his skin - As much as you could see between his mask and visor. - was pale, and had a slight shade of grey to it. His voice was hollow, and sounded like it came from the bottom of a well, yet had some otherworldly authority filling it. It crawled into your heart and bones and chilled them, making you know to the very being of your soul, that speaking against the voice would put you in danger of being snuffed out like a candle in the darkness. Speaking of darkness, he had that around him in abundance. It nestled in the folds of his clothes, hid behind his mask and visor, permeated him. Kašpar wondered for a moment how horrible It could have been to encounter it for the first time, to the unfortunate torture master. Living his whole life hurting people, feeling like a master, and then suddenly just encountering with something that just didn’t care, and devoured him. He never saw the footage, but those who have had to le-learn how to sleep in a dark room, and all of them were seasoned veteran terrorist motherfuckers. As they tell, when the torture master uttered the words, the whole room went silent for a moment. Then a flicker of something returned to the man’s eye, and everything gone to hell.  
\- Yes, and Helix too. - Said Kašpar while he swallowed a little. He could feel the chiefs gaze in his face. It was cold.  
\- That inconsequential. - Said the man with a voice like the deepest heart of a glacier. -They are not our target right now. They will find nothing. – Kašpar slowly nodded and no matter how he tried to keep a straight face something must have showed on it because his conversation partner asked.- Yes Kašpar? Something bothering you. I can see it you know. -Yeah, I sure you could. – Thought Kašpar for a moment before he spoke up.  
\- It is just, does it had to be you alone sir? You are our leader sir, took quite a risk there. - The man smiled a little bit under its facemask. It was even more chilling this way.  
\- No, I didn’t. I am unable to die, remember. – Off course Kašpar remembered.  
And so is anyone who watched the tape. They say, his body became nothing but smoke, and flowed out of its restrains. And then he just solidified, his hands already around the neck of his torturer. He broke it with a flick of his wrist. The two guard bursting in didn’t fare much better. He threw the body and knocked of the first one, and grabbed the second one’s knife. The unfortunate bloke pumped him full of holes, but despite the obvious damaged to his body he just drove the knife right into his temple. By this time the first one got his weapon loose from under the torturers corpse but despite bleeding from more than a dozen rounds, the guy just stepped into his hands and then onto his neck. But this wasn’t the scary part…after that. He just kneeled beside them, and darkness enveloped him. His eyes glowed with earie blue-green light, and while the three body jolted once, his wounds just closed. Right then and there. As those who watched the tape spoke about it, you could tell he took something from the bodies, and that it was worse than simply killing them. After that, he went on a killing spree on the base…When the rescue team arrived he was the only one alive there. Then he told them he wished to join. They reported this to the leaders, whom of course denied and ordered them to kill the man. He slaughtered them all, and waited for the second team. This time he was allowed to join. Such powerful asset couldn’t just be wasted after all. 

\- Yes sir. Sorry sir. What’s the next step sir? - The man in the chair slowly stood up and cracked his hand.  
\- Now that they know the possible danger I pose, we set up a trap. The bait will be me, off course. I already choose a location from the selection our hacker presented. - He pulled out a drawer and dropped a small dossier into the desk. - This should not only be suitable, but somehow ironic as well. Sombra really know how to choose them, hasn’t she? - The man smiled again. It was a smile which could extinguish a warm campfire. Kašpar read the title and nodded. It was indeed really fitting. Sombra was an excellent find for the organization. Rebellious youth, unrivalled hacking skills, and even some combat experience due to her being a member of a gang for a while. Although Kašpar suspected she had some other agenda on her mind, he would never spoke about this to the chief. He probably already knew anyway. Despite his otherworldliness, the man was the best leader he ever served under. Certainly, better than the fools he replaced. They let him join the organization, and he quickly climbed the ranks. The higher ups watched him like a hawk, but he seemed to follow every order to the letter, never leaving witnesses. This appealed to them, and on a day of his third year in his service to Talon, they finally made one mistake. He was able to get their location, most of them were gathered for a meeting in Ireland. First, he usurped the base he was stationed, the men just wouldn’t fight him. They knew what he could do, and they would much more likely choose death please thank you, than try to kill him. He left them with the orders to maintain the façade that they are still under the orders of the local Talon higher up. After he, alone travelled to the village the meeting took place. It was basically a stronghold, attack helicopters, armoured vehicles, countless guards. None of them mattered, they just couldn’t kill him. He got shot, stabbed, blown up, chocked by poisonous gas, he just kept on coming. And he made sure they knew it was him, and not only that bat also that he intends to replace them.

The most elite bodyguards of Talons high council are conditioned mentally to serve the organization above all else, they are little more than organic machines and had no fear of death. Well before the incident they hadn’t. Something about the current chief, touched the tortured soul inside the brainwashed hells. Something ancient and deep inside the human brain, a memory from our animalistic ancestors. Predators in the darkness. Primal evil, unkillable, ever hungry, always lurking. And he was the cold darkness himself, thick walls, laser grids, force fields, none of them stopped him. He just kept on coming. He cornered the council in the panic room where they sealed themselves with their body guards. And then he stopped, and spoke to the bodyguards. He told them that he is Talon. Not those frail old creatures hiding behind their backs, but he, he is everything the organization stands for. Darkness slowly swallowing the world. He will bring about the new order of the world Talon so desperately craves, and it will be order indeed, not the plaything of some rich industrialists. Real order, the order of straight guidelines, no dissent, no chaos, no more anarchy, and Talon will bring upon this order. The old leaders screamed him to shut up, called him a traitor, and ordered the bodyguards to shut down the com system. Some of them tried to do so, most of them doesn’t. See, the thing is, the bodyguards were conditioned to do everything for Talon. They were conditioned that Talon was everything, Talon was powerful, Talon was darkness, Talon was everlasting. But these shivering things behind them were none of it. It is said the first shot inside the panic room was fired by the guy who was in a past life called Gérard Delacroix, and later something entirely else. Nonetheless, when the reinforced door opened, there was twenty former bodyguard kneeling in front of the attacker, and a heap of dead bodies behind them…

\- Kašpar? - Asked the chief suddenly. The Talon operative almost jolted.  
\- Sorry sir, I just lost in my thoughts for a second there. - Said Kašpar and straightened himself out. The chief run his gaze across his face.  
\- Alright. If you have some kind of a problem, you can share it with my anytime. I could give you a day off or two. - Said the man, but the tone suggested the days of could easily become permanent if the problem had something to do with him.  
\- No sir. Thank you, sir. Just a long day sir. Sombra is really a very good operative sir. I will make sure the location and the date will be “leaked” sir.  
\- And I will make sure that I will be seen while traveling there. Preferably at the start of my journey, we want to give them time to prepare.- Nodded the man with the icy smile and turned to one of his monitors. - And call back the Hound. It will be like a big family reunion.  
\- Yes sir. – Said Kašpar and turned to leave the room but the chief spoke up again.  
\- And Kašpar. - The operative froze in its place.  
\- Yes?  
\- Have that day of. On the date of the trap you will be leading the other part of the operation. I need you and your squads in best possible performance. You will succeed. – Kašpar clearly understood the unspoken part of the sentence which begun with the word “or”. He will damn well die on that mission if he had to but he will not chance meeting with the chief again when he will be disappointed.  
-I will sir. Thank you, sir.


	6. Old warriors new battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reinhardt do what he does best, and a new character is introduced.

The artillery shell impacted and like a neon flower, blue plasma erupted around it. The unfortunate wreck of an old hover truck was reduced into a pool of molten slag and glowing broken metal fragments.  
\- Scheisse. - Grunted a couple of meters away a gigantic man wearing what anyone could mistake for an oversized medieval armour. It was actually a marvel of the German engineering. A powered armour made of futuristic materials, capable of shrugging of automatic rifle fire like the bullets were nothing but acorns. It was made decades ago, and nowadays was a little bit rusted on the sides, just as his owner but it only grew more stubborn over the years. Which was also just as true about his owner. Reinhardt Wilhelm, veteran of the Omnic uprising and countless Overwatch operation since then, was a man closer to the idealised medieval knight than any of actual noble born warrior of that bygone age. He even had a shield, although made from a futuristic force shield projector rather than reinforced steel.  
The only thing that wasn’t modelled after the aforementioned members of the old European armies, was his rocket hammer. No medieval knight has ever dreamed of wielding such a gigantic weapon on the actual battlefield, but then again, none of them had a powered exoskeleton infused within their armour. Right now, the hammer was behind the giant man’s back, and his shield were deployed. The blue barrier almost entirely covered the old two-lane road, which was quite good for the people hiding behind It because it was peppered with bullets so frequently it looked like the surface of a pond in heavy rain. - I think it waz an ambush Zoltan. - Said the German giant.  
The man he spoke two were kneeling beside him and were in the process of reloading his rifle. It was quite a contraption, somewhere along the line it must have started its life as a Bastion units recon weapon, but it now had an extended barrel, and a couple of other modification, most importantly a stock and a trigger so a normal human could use it. Most of these “upgrades” were simply welded into it, and the whole rifle looked like it would fall apart in any moment, but it never did. Its owner was almost as raggedy as the weapon itself.  
The aforementioned owner was in his mid-fifties and had a bushy unkept beard, which in accordance to his age, was mostly grey. The right side of his face were mangled by an explosion long gone, and where his ear should have been now a small black rectangle was attached. It had two or three antennas sticking out of it, one of which ended in a slowly blinking blue light. He wore an old and faded military cap, with a bullet hole right in the middle where the insignia should have been, his other clothes were mostly covered by his long and dusty green overcoat, which ended around his knees. Under that he wore some kind of loose fitting jean, which were tucked into a pair of military boots which were presumably had the colour black some unspecified time ago, but now bore the colour of burns, cuts, dust, bloodstains and dirt.

\- Do you think so? - Grumbled the man and snapped his gun back into action. - Now I am really sorry I didn’t join to Overwatch. If I knew I could learn such impressive deductive skills, I would have never hesitated. - Reinhard let out a short thunderous laugh which was the equivalent of a normal sized persons chuckle for him.  
\- Your just grumpy because you haven’t forezeen it either. Where the hell did they got the artillery cannon?  
\- Beats me. - Said Zoltan while he took a small bottle out from under his Overcoat. It was filled with iridescent liquid which when Zoltan weighted it in his hands separated into glowing colours for a while before it settled down again. -But we better clear this barricade and reach it before it blows us into smithereens. If I distract the gunners for a while can you took care of it? - The barricade they talked about was roughly thirty meters away. The makeshift roadblock was comprised of a couple of rusted out hovercar wreck, doors and furniture, and random bits of metal plating which the defenders stick on almost as an afterthought. It must have had some kind of ledge on the other side where the gunners stood so they could take pot shots of the pair. Originally besides Reinhardt and Zoltan there was five more people in their “squad” but one by one they either died, or suffered such a serious injury that they couldn’t continue anymore. They all knew what they were volunteering to.

\- Can I? - Zoltan had the feeling he could see the man’s smile even behind his helmet. - My dear friend, just try to keep up. - The old revolutionary couldn’t supress a small smile. Reinhardt’s optimism and love of life were somehow contagious, even to him. He cracked his dirty fingers and weighted the bottle again. That should do it. He stepped a little bit towards the barricade and let the bottle fly. It spun through the air and with a loud crash it shattered right on top of the structure. The liquid ignited itself and the droplets sprayed into the defenders. Screams echoed on the street, the tiny globs of flame burned hotter than any kind of gasoline. The heat set ablaze fabrics, the droplets slowly melted trough metal, and flesh charred in the matter of seconds. One bottle could reduce any omnic soldier, BASTION unit, or even the main section of an Omnic tank into a puddle of rapidly cooling metal and charred cables.  
\- That waz an impressive throw Zoltan. I always wondered, how can it burn trough metal?  
\- Chemical fire. Worked In a chemical plant before the Omnic cri… - Reinhardt suddenly raised his finger.  
\- Hold that thought. Just a second. - And with that he just turned off his shield and took out his hammer. He must have activated something because the long dormant rocket engine on his back suddenly roared alive. The power propelled him through the space right into the barricade. Reinhardt already braced himself for the impact. And It was one hell of an impact. One of the wreck holding up the barricade buckled and broke free careening away. After that the whole structure collapsed into itself like a house of cards when somebody shook the table. Reinhardt dusted himself of and then turned back to his conversation partner. - You were saying?  
\- You are one crazy old man. - Said Zoltan walking closer while smiling- And that I worked in a high-tech chemical plant. It’s quite a cocktail, most of its ingredients are contained within artificial vesicles or something…It has chlorine trifluoride, dicyanoacetylene, and a couple of other nasty little buggers. - Reinhardt scratched his head indicating he wasn’t an expert on the field off chemicals.-Effective but toxic as all hell, I say we shouldn’t stay here much longer. - Nodded Zoltan and prodded one of the bodies on the ground. It was only half buried by the collapsed barricade. The man wore a leather jacket with a couple of pins on its frontside. On his head, he wore a headband coloured red, white and green and now shattered motorcycle glasses. Zoltan slowly reached down and took the bandana into his hand.  
The Omnic crisis hit the eastern part Europe pretty hard. It was mostly compromised of small countries, and some of them continued to struggle with economic problems well into the 2040-s despite the aid of the European Union. The Omnica corporation were more than welcomed to these countries since its promised a new economic boom, a new golden age, an opportunity which was too good to pass. When the corporation promises evaporated, these countries found themselves with useless and empty facilities, and a mountain of debt. To make matters worse, they didn’t even had time to rebuild their shattered financial sector. Soon the empty Omiums sprung to life and started churning out hordes of Bastion units, giant Titan siege engines, and countless limited series but nonetheless just as deadly automatons. It was the breaking point for some of the smaller countries in the region.

  
With their small sized militaries, and depleted finances they were unable to mount any effective resistance against the endless tide of machines they suddenly faced. The other countries of Europe were willing to help, but were unfortunately unable to. Germany, France, and the Nordic states despite their economic strength found themselves just as much a predicament as their smaller neighbours. Their own armies could do nothing but stall the Omnic onslaught. Desperate last stands by the remaining portions of the military, hasty evacuations, increasingly grim statements from the slowly crumbling governments became everyday occurrence in the eastern part of Europe.  
But the people didn’t give up. Hungary, Romania, Slovakia, Poland, the Czech Republic, in every country, militias formed, civilians rose up in defence of their homelands, lives and families. Scientist, engineers, chemists, biologist, everyday people turned their expertise and equipment into a weapon against the Omnics. Fighting with guerrilla tactics they destroyed Omnic supply lines, stroke at key omnic repair facilities, planted IEDs strong enough to vaporise the Titan walker’s legs and bleed and died just to give the military and their families enough time to regroup or evacuate. Forgetting old grudges, the European Human resistance, as they came to be called, shared information across the borders using the old satellite telephones and radio communication to circumvent the Omnics ability to scour the internet for information. If a Romanian resistance unit identified a new weakness in a particular Omnic unit, a Hungarian or Polish one could use it to fight more effectively by the next hour and vice versa. Still, every day was struggle for survival until the relief came due to the newly created Overwatch.

\- Zoltan. – Yes, he was there. One of the leaders of the resistance. Merely twenty-five years old, it was like a millennia passed after that. A millennium, where peace never came. After the war, they were supposed to rebuild. And some did, the new twin arcologies were a testament to that. One in Hungary called Danubia built in the path of the similarly named river, and RegatOlt its older sibling in Romania completed just a year before its brother. Both of them quickly became the de facto capital of their respective region. The old and ruined Budapest and Bucharest became something of a monument to the painful past. The completion of the arcologies halted the meagre rebuilding efforts already started, and the old cities were left to the homeless, the radicals and the bands roaming their streets. Paramilitary organizations took over the districts, fighting for control and disregarding any innocents whom the misfortune bring into that god forsaken place. There was hardly anyone who tried to keep the law there.

\- Zoltan! - Except him off course. At least in Budapest. There were rumours of an another one like him in Bucharest too, another old fool no doubt, unable to return to normal life, still haunted by the memories of war. Unable to forget the devastation, still clinging to a ruined city remembering its former glory. He stuck living there, hunting down the worst of the city, trying to save those who are still saveable, guiding researchers from universities whom searched for the old relics lost during “The Last stand of Budapest”. And now the Government needed him. Some nutjob distributed military gear to the gangs waring over the city. They had to be taken down, all of them, otherwise they might pose a threat to civilians living outside the ruins. He was given a couple of squads made out of volunteers, most of whom were former resistance fighters, they were the ones who had enough familiarity with the now ruined city to be useful. Their mission was to eliminate critical point of the gangs, their leadership, supply depots, base of operation, etc so the police can come in and mop up the disorganized mess.

\- ZOLTAN!! - Suddenly a big hand landed on his shoulder the old resistance fighter shook his head and looked up. Reinhardt looked genuinely concerned. The man volunteered to the mission not because he served in the Overwatch but because he was around and heard Zoltan leading it. They only fought side by side a couple of times in the latter part of the conflict, when Overwatch helped turn the tide of the war. Yet the man remembered not only his name, but also everything else he told him during the brief periods of peace between combat. Zoltan could admire a man who not only asked the question “How are you?” but genuinely wanted to know the answer. - Is everything okay?

\- I thought after the Omnic crisis, everything is going to be better. - Murmured slowly Zoltan while he pocketed the headband. - I guess it’s just human nature…Nothing. - He caught the mans concerned gaze. - Really nothing Reinhardt.-The time lost knight gave him an incredulous nod but didn’t prod the issue further.  
\- So, which ones are these? I mean yesterday it was the “Betyar freedom front”, and before that the “Power of Hungary”, which ones are these? - He was barely able to finish the sentence before a shell impacted not far from them, breaking an old car in two and melting its engine block into a glowing pool.  
\- The ones who realized we took their barricade…Less talk more fighting Reinhardt. - Grunted Zoltan while he started to jog. He was quite slow, old war injuries most likely.  
\- Sais the man who doze off for a few minutes while standing. -Reinhardt let out a small but uproarious laugh and followed suit.  
They hadn’t needed to run far, just a couple of blocks away there was the mortar. They positioned it into the centre of an old traffic roundabout. The machine looked like a repurposed omnic artillery piece. It was originally mounted onto a crab like walker which housed its own intelligence and could move on a variety of hard terrains. Now the legs were nowhere to be found, and most of its chassis was gutted, only the power source and the cannon remained which somebody connected to the back of a heavy-duty hover truck. At first glance, it didn’t contain any precision aiming mechanism, this explained the highly inaccurate nations of the previous shots. They were essentially firing blindly in a general direction, and judging the correct arc in a trial and error method. Zoltan had to wonder how many shots they fired just to have them flew into the distance and destroy some random half collapsed building until they managed to land those earlier two shots relatively close to them. Reinhardt instantly erected his shield, not a moment too soon since it immediately became the target of a couple of hundred bullets. The energy rippled, but the emitter endured. The source of the bullets was a gun emplacement just before the mortar. It had to have a pretty strong machine gun, and at least ten combatants.

\- Did you zee their leader? - Asked Reinhardt trying to speak trough the patter of the bullets.  
\- Yeah, it’s the bald one with the tattoos. The one with the leather jacket covered in studs. He has a makeshift sword. That’s gotta be him. A picsába. - Growled Zoltan suddenly changing to his native language for a brief cuss word. -They are starting to lower the mortar to aim at us. At this distance no matter their horrendous aim, they will hit us, and we will die.  
\- Always such an optimist. - Chuckled Reinhardt but even he had to agree that the situation was grim. With his shield deployed he couldn’t move to fast, it required to much of the suits energy, so retreat was out of question. To make matters worse, the barrier started to crack. By now, they were able to stare down into the barrel of the mortar. Light slowly started to grow at the end of it, as the weapon started to superheat its projectiles, concentrated globs of gases and metals. Suddenly, a spark of remembrance sprung to life inside Reinhardt’s head.  
\- I KNOW THIS TYPE OF MORTAR! THEY WERE MOSTLY USED IN GERMANY! - He yelled to his comrade in an excited voice - ONE OF MY FELLOW CRUSADERS, BERTHA ALMOST BLEW HERSELF UP WHEN HE STRUCK IT DURING THE CRISIS!  
\- And? - Asked Zoltan desperately trying to take pot shots at the defenders. One of his bullets found its target since after a small yelp, the number of bullets impacting the slowly cracking shield decreased ever so slightly.  
\- JUST..-Reinhardt suddenly lowered his voice. - When I gave the signal throw your Molotov’s at the power source, trust me!-Zoltan gave him a small nod and pulled out his three of his most prized bottles.  
The chemical cocktails inside them could burn a hole in a titans plating. Reinhardt shield suddenly shattered and the man launched himself forward like a human locomotive, trusting in the sheer thickness of his armour to protect him, shouting a challenge. - COME ON YOU BUNCH OF ARSCHEIGEN!-The defenders, obviously, focused to the screaming giant rocketing towards them. In an instant Reinhardt shut down his boosters, and with a mighty swing of his hammer transferred every bit of kinetic energy into a colossal hammer blow, right in front of the gun emplacement. – HAMMER DOWN! - He shouted, and the ground shook from the strike. The asphalt cracked and broke and every enemy combatant were knocked down from his feet. - NOW.  
Zoltan, now freed from the possibility of dying in a hail of bullets, leaped into the air and let his Molotov’s flew. The first bullet shattered right in top of the power generator, the corrosive chemical fire bloomed atop the cylindrical structure. The second one landed a little bit to the side, splattering onto the cables connecting the generator to the barrel. The third one unfortunately missed its target and delivered its deadly load into a small plastic chair positioned on the other side of the truck. It was a mighty unfortunate chair. Despite all this, the first two bottles did more than enough damaged. The half melted generator and the fully melted cables were unable to provide any more energy to the barrel, which was quite a big problem for its users since the projectile were already superheated and condensed, but the containment around it suddenly disappeared. Without the magnetic field keeping it stable, the ball of plasma and melted metal suddenly expanded into a gigantic explosion. Even Zoltan was smashed into a derelict car, even though he was at least twenty meters away from the blue fireball. The hovertruck and most of the thing around it just ceased to exist, the shockwave destroyed the gun emplacement, and severely mangled anyone inside it. But Reinhardt just stood there, his shield slowly crumbling in front of him, he suddenly straightened himself out.

\- HAHA, another great success for the forzes of good! - Zoltan couldn’t help but smile while he himself stood up from where the shockwave threw him. His leg hurt like hell, both from his jump, and from the impact. Nobody gets younger. When he reached Reinhardt he had a small device in his hand. It looked like some kind of communicator which could be hanged from a belt, except this one had a bullet hole in it. Somehow it was still operational but only barely. It cracked and sparkled, and the voice which came out of it was broken and muffled.  
-…zttt….operative….mission……help. - Came from the device before it suddenly went completely silent.  
\- Hmmm. Thatz not good.- Said Reinhardt, his voice positively concerned.  
\- You know if you would keep that under your armour, it wouldn’t get damaged. - Said Zoltan inspecting the device. It had an Overwatch insignia on it, but one with a visibly crack in it by design.  
\- That would be extremely uncomfortable. Anyway, Zoltan, I fear I have to return to my friends. Although I didn’t get their full message, it is clear they are in need of help. - The old revolutionary nodded a little and run his gaze trough the devastation caused by the explosion. Most of the gang members were dead or unconscious, and those who weren’t, were in no condition to fight. Soon the police will march into the ruined Budapest, these events will act like a wake up call to them, they will turn the city into a gigantic museum, or something similar. He will have no more place in it.  
\- Do you perhaps need a hand with that? - Reinhardt slowly scratched his chin. Considering he was still wearing his helmet, this act was just for the looks alone.  
\- Why not? We are alwayz in need of more volunteers, but first…-Reinhardt slowly walked to a nearby pile of rubble, left by the explosion. Under the wreckage of a rusted out bycicle, the bald man whom Zoltan identified as the leader of the gang, groaned in pain. He had a couple of burns and scrapes but otherwise looked fine. He must have had his fair share of broken bones, but he will live. Reinhardt prodded the man cautiously with his foot and lowered himself into his knee so he could hear him.- Tell me Herr leader, what’s your groups name again?


	7. Before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new outfit, and Talons plan begin to unfold

\- Operative Crusader due to an important mission we request your immediate return and help. Repeat. Operative Crusader due to an important mission we request your…- The agent responsible for the communications with the Overwatch operatives on the field gave out a dissatisfied sigh. - No answer sir. I am really sorry. - Gulped the man. The superior standing beside him was none other than the chief of the entire organization, and he had to disappoint him. He was pretty sure this was the worst day of his life, a notion which was sharply overturned in the following week when he had to survive for days alone in the wilderness after escaping from his own workplace, but more on that later. Right now, he tried to seem as innocent about the issue as he indeed was. - The issue seems to be with the communicator on the other sides of the line.  
\- That’s just wonderful. Just what we needed. - Grunted the man with a coarse voice. - He was the only operative who was on a non-essential mission. The other ones are either too far away for a rapid response or if we extract them, we endanger the lives of innocent people. We have to use whoever is available...  
\- Maybe I can try to reach the Professor? - Asked the agent trying to save some face. His boss just shook his head.  
\- He is too far away, and I doubt he will help us after that fiasco in Lijiang. Especially not if he doesn’t see it helping him with his own quest for supplies. Just send out the order for the Cowboy, the Archer and the Superstar to assemble as soon as possible. - So McCree, Hanzo and Lucio. - Thought the agent. Those damn codenames shouldn’t be necessary when the operatives are inside the base. Frankly they just complicate things. But he wasn’t going to raise the issue with the boss who issued the order.  
\- Will do sir. Anything else? - The man thought for a second and shook his head. - Nothing right now. Continue. - And with that he walked out of the room leaving the sweating communication agent alone. 

He was heading for the launch bay. Although the departure for the mission would probably be around the evening, he liked to check the equipment beforehand. It was his first mission after a long hiatus, he shouldn’t be too careless. On the way, he tried to get used to his new synthetics. Previously he wore a civilian version leg and arm replacement, the disconnectment of which were a major source of pain within his tortured nerve cells. And after only a day of recuperation which lacking an arm and a leg he had to sit through in a wheelchair, he undergone the linking of the new prosthetics. Jamison weren’t lying, his still sore nerves reacted to the stimuli as if somebody poured acid into his surgical wounds. The feelings till hasn’t subsided fully, and every step, and movement in his new hand set his left side ablaze. Still, the new hardware at least up to snuff. He could bend metal with his arms, and he could kick like a cybernetic mule. Could have been worse. When they first installed the civilian grade ones, he had to learn to walk again and could never run properly with them. Immersed in his thoughts he almost collided with Mercy. The women read medical records even as she walked.  
\- Sorry Angela. - He murmured in his deep voice and stood aside quite quickly. The women stopped, a little bit startled and looked up.  
\- No problem Archang …. What are you wearing? - Archangel straightened himself out. He made his new outfit himself, it was quite a challenge to incorporate his new gear, but he was up to the challenge. He wore a long coat with a pronounced hood so dark blue that it could have been mistaken to black in the eye of a casual observer. It was lined with three stripes; the middle one was white but the outsides were brass coloured. Under it he wore a protective vest in much the same blue-dark colour, but it had a curious chest piece. Mercy had seen it before, it was a modified version of Tracers chronal accelerator. It was almost a triangle and it was made out of hard white plastic. It gave out a golden glow, instead of the British pilots blue-s and had four holographic triangles slowly turning around each other inside the casing. Around the central opening the plastic where shaped such that it would form the symbol of Overwatch. Complete with the painted-on crack. Below that, he wore a black ammo belt, with two cases for his dual shotguns. As much as you could see about them, they were also painted brass and white. Archangel wore dark blue pants, and huge military boots, which had brass lining. 

\- My new outfit. - The man nodded and Mercy just now looked at his face. He wore a mask, entirely golden coloured and featureless besides the detailed area around the holes for the eyes. It probably contained quite sophisticated systems since his voice wasn’t muffled not even a little bit.  
\- Its… - Mercy searched for the words in his mind but his thoughts sieved trough miles upon miles of medical terminology and returned empty handed from the small shelf labelled “disingenuous compliments”. – Original. - Managed Mercy with a small nod. It was a long time since Archangel done any costume, some positive reinforcement was in order. - I like it. – Archangel’s eyes almost looked happy and Mercy decided it’s time to change the subject. - I see the new arm and leg are serving you well? I tried my best so I hope. - Archangel gave her a small grateful nod.  
\- A little bit of aching but nothing I couldn’t handle. - Mercy murmured and stepping closer and inspected his conversation partner under the shoulder of the coat.  
\- Yes, I think it’s a minor inflation. The switching of the artificial nerves to a faster model is a delicate procedure, especially where they meet the organic ones. I can give you an ointment, but If the pain isn’t subsiding in a couple of days please contact me about that. We don’t want to fry your nervous system. – Archangel nodded. Mercy who having seen countless number of these small nods from various patients were sure that the man would only come to her if he literally screamed from pain from every step. - Right. I don’t know why I don’t believe you.  
\- Must be your suspicious nature doc. - Concluded Archangel with a deep almost jovial voice. Mercy couldn’t help but smile. No matter how much he grumbled, he needed the field duty even if he wouldn’t admit it. – And you Angela. Are you… - Reyes didn’t have to finish it before Mercy interrupted with sudden anger.  
\- No Archangel. I won’t go to the field. Never again. If I would go the temptation would be too high to help those whom already too far gone. And…Never again. Never. – The light faded from Mercy’s eyes. - I won’t go to the field Reyes. And please don’t ask me again. - The chief of Overwatch let out a small sigh.  
\- All right Angela. I won’t. – Something happened to the woman on “The day of the Siege” when the Swiss HQ fell. She never told him what exactly, and as someone who had his own traumatic experiences and dark secrets, he was wise enough not to poke the topic. Angela never returned to field duty, most of the times simply politely declined it, but the recent events must have disturbed her somehow. If she is so adamant about it, as her long-time friend, he will honour her request.  
\- But I wish you and the others good luck Archangel. If you lost another limb, I swear Iam going to repleace it with a sock puppet. – Reyes eyes smiled and the man gave a small salute.  
\- As your order doc. Have a nice evening.  
\- Nice evening, worried about you all. Hoping I didn’t have to reattach any limbs or operate on a heart. Off course. – Mercy shook her head smiling a little and waved a goodbye before continuing down the hallway. Reaper watched her turning left and disappearing into the communication room.

 

In a prosperous city such as Zürich, a vacant lot isn’t going to stay vacant for a long time. Just two years after the “Day of the Siege” a conglomerate made out of a couple of rich industrialist purchased the spot of the former Overwatch HQ from the government. After their promise to create a memorial to the tragedy happened there, they started an ambitious project. Overwatch as a whole was till a pretty popular topic in the minds of the populus, especially in Switzerland, Sweden and Germany.  
To capitalize in this, they created the “Overwatch Memorial Museum and interactive theme park.” Some people thought it was a tasteless tourist attraction but to give credit where credit due, a damn good one. They not only built a huge museum containing the less dangerous items from the erstwhile international organization, such as communicators, old uniforms donated by families of retired agents, old books, maps, chassis of destroyed omnics and even a functional Overwatch dropship, but interactive portion of the experience was detailed and captivating. Those who paid the substantial additional fee to participate in it where given their own replica uniforms, fake weapons and were lead through the small scale -Only the important rooms, such as control centre, dropship docking station etc.-etc- replication of the original building that stood in the museums place. They were treated as newbie agents and were able to sit in the chairs of the co-leaders, fire a working version of an original Overwatch issued battle rifle under the watchful gaze of their instructors, plan attack strategies against fictional omnic forces attacking fictional cities, fly around the landscape in the dropship, and at the end of the day receive prizes according their knowledge of Overwatch. Most people agreed that it was worth its prize. 

Right now, the Museum prepared its biggest event since the opening week. They were ready to make an entire new wing available to the public. The exhibits contained within documented Overwatch continued activity as a vigilante organization to the present day. As the Museum told the news: “We tried to be as objective as possible. We worked from whatever news sources were available, and presented everything as its happened. There will be some people who are going to be offended about this, but we cannot deny reality, and we are certain most people will love the new exhibits.” Now, just two days before the opening, the museum was silent. Gone were the frantic activity of the last few weeks, everything bar some minor details were already in place, and those can be sorted out during daytime. Now guards patrolled the dark halls, and most of the exhibits were covered with white sheets. 

Robert Lodge, 31-year-old security guard, father of three much more preferred this, than the constant work of the previous weeks, when he not only had to keep his eyes on the workers, so they wouldn’t nick anything, he also had to be careful not to bump into any debris, paint can, or tools lying around on his daily routine. After 4 years on the job his rounds become something akin to an autonomous movement. He just started it, his mind wandered off, and by the time it returned he also got back to the guard post. The opening of the new wing, and the works inside totally threw him off. The first day of the works he almost broke his neck with the help of a misplaced bucket. That would have been an embarrassing epitaph. "Here lies Robert, loving father, avid sports fan, moderately lazy security guard. Killed by a paintbucket." Right now, he slowly learned his new route. Right turn from the main hallway, another one into the room with the newspapers and the first mysterious sighting of the Overwatch agents after the incident. Right through the room with the recreation of the Rio De Janeiro uprising where the vigilante organization was first exposed to the world…After that comes the room about the Incident with Mondatta which currently contains sculptures about Talon operatives, and then the exhibit about the hostage rescue from an Oil rig. Wait... There are are no sculptures of Talon operatives in the museum. The last thing Robert heard was a small click not far behind his head.


	8. Storm 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About the monks, and the start of the storm.

After the Crisis, most of the combat capable Omnic units were scrapped. Even though their actions were the result of the God Machines control, they were too much of a risk to be kept in operation and because this was one of the cornerstones of the peace agreement and the UN wouldn’t budge, the other omnics had to oblige. Even though they essentially sacrificed some of their brethren in the altar of peace, they still faced with significant prosecution in some parts of the world. While Numbani embraced coexistence and as a result benefitted from a new economic boom, others like the UK tried to simulate its success by essentially enslaving their omnic populace. Minor gangs, and anti-omnic organizations sprung up worldwide. Most of the omnics accepted their treatment due to their guilt about the things the God Machines forced them to do, others reacted just as violently and omnic and human street gangs clashed daily. 

It appeared there was no possibility for peace, and then, a new breed of omnics appeared. Nobody knows where the order we now know as the Monks of Shambali originates from, now residing in the monastery from which they were named, they started to spread the message of equality and coexistence. Led by Tekhartha Mondatta the Monks travelled the world, shunning violence and sharing their knowledge with everyone who wanted to listen. They believed that although humans and omnics are inherently different beings, they both have souls and thus inseparably connected in their spiritual existence. Metal and flesh, both are nothing but cages from the true consciences. They believed that as they can be potentially reprogrammed, humans could be just as well subjected to psychological tortures and brainwash which, in their believes, is essentially the same thing. The monks started to preach for the masses, be it human or omnic, and acting as meditator between the opposing sides. Although they weren’t always successful, they were the voice of reason and light, and that was more than enough to give something to the synthetic populace which they lacked before. Hope. 

Unfortunately, as you can imagine not everybody liked this. The most famous attacks against the Monks happened in London, the place where peace was most needed. Here, not other but Tekhartha Mondatta himself appeared to speak on behalf of universal brotherhood and coexistence. This was the place, where he was seriously injured by an assassin sent by unknown forces. Despite the intervention of the vigilante organization Overwatch, they couldn’t prevent Mondatta coming to harm, although they saved his life. After that, the monks disappeared for two whole years. When they returned they were, changed somehow. They still spoke the massage of hope and tolerance, but they weren’t afraid to show force when it was necessary. Never in excess mind you, only when and the amount which was absolutely necessary. There were attempts on their life again, but those where thwarted by the monks themselves, using a power never seen before, they brought discord in the ranks of their enemies, and seeded harmony in the souls of their allies. They wished for peace, but they were willing to fight to right the wrongs mere words couldn’t budge. They became the Warrior Monks of Shambali.

 

The ship slowly landed in the park just behind the Museum. It made no sound besides the small humming of the engines and the quite “thump” as it landed. Its windows where al tinted, and no outside light source were visible on it. It was originally designed as a stealth carrier by South Korea and were “stolen” by the now vigilante Overwatch. Truth to be told this stealing were more among the lines of: “Oh look at that, an unguarded KAI-ST tactical transport. It even has its keys in, and have valid codes. It would be the shame if any kind of vigilante Organization we are in no way support of would steal it from us and use it for its operations, all of them highly illegal I think. Incidentally I have a sudden urge to turn around and inspect my shoelaces. I’m a really meticulous soldier so it’s going to take me a fifteen minute give or take. Be on your best behaviour during that time. “ but off course South Korea denied any kind of dealings with Overwatch and insisted that they stole it. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge. 

The planes underbelly gave a small hissing sound, and a ramp lowered itself into the grass. Four figures came down to the ground. Archangel wore his new outfit, and tried a little bit sheepishly to mask its golden glow. Besides him McCree strolled into the grass, wearing an attire which could be called black, on black, except his golden belt buckle which almost gleamed in the night. On the other side Hanzo readied his bow, the lines on his android body giving him a faint blue outline. The last of the group slid down with his roller-skates, done a quick circle around his teammates and stopped in front of them. Although the skates which were connected with his exoskeletal armour on his legs were painted to a dark green colour, the neon glow of the actual tracks, and the similar lights of his weapon were clearly visible in the dark. Besides that he was a male in his twenties, his skin colour indicated a Latino or Hispanic ancestry with maybe a little bit of African American mixed in somewhere along the line. He wore his hair in dreadlocks, and right now had a thoughtful smile on his face.  
\- I have to say I think we are the worst stealth team ever. - Archangel who have given up on covering his glowing chest piece gave him a little shrug. - Also, I am not sure about this mission. We came here because a suspicious people was sighted heading into this general direction and this was the most Over-watchie target around here?   
\- Technically you came here because I asked you. - Said Archangel giving the musical genius a sharp look. - And beside that we intercepted a communication with the place and the day in it, unfortunately not the exact time thought. I hope we were faster. And on regards of stealth it could have been worse. At least the plane is nigh invisible. Once we start shooting we lose the element of surprise anyway, this way at least we won’t lose each other. I hope you’re ready for this, you are responsible for keeping us alive.   
\- Alive and boosted. Don’t worry Archangel, I drop the beat and you will all ride the soundwaves like your surfing on the ocean. My tunes will soothe your wounds. My bass will make their asses grass. – Grinned Lucio amidst the groans and sighs of his teammates.  
\- If only your jokes or your aim were as good as your songs, you could either bring warring nations to peace with stand-up comedy or beat me on the shooting range. - Said McCree shaking his head and checking his weapon. - I’m ready.   
\- Aww you are really like my rhythm, don’t you? I will still not remix you Cotton Eye Joe thought. And I am ready too. - Hanzo who were silently until now slowly drawn an arrow from his quiver and placed it onto his bow.  
\- I am also on my optimum performance. - Archangel nodded and gave a small head gesture in the way of the backdoor. Hanzo let his arrow fly, it bored itself into the wall besides the doorway and emitted a sonic pulse, in a frequency which human ears couldn’t process, but which his internal sensors easily picked up.   
\- Nobody behind the door, it’s clear. - The team, glowing slightly, moved in the direction of the door. 

McCree ran ahead taking out a small lock picking device from under his coat. It wasn’t to operate but due to its assortments of computer spikes, small drills, and lasers it could break most known locks. Only the criminal elements ever used these, and Jesse having a not too shallow connection with them in his misspent youth learned a few tips and tricks about the correct use of such devices. Before he could stick it onto the electric lock, he stopped.   
\- What’s the problem? - Whispered Archangel slowly with a deep grumble.   
\- It’s not powered. - Grumbled the cowboy and slid the device back into his pocket. – The locks should be connected to the main cable so that must be down to. Damn I think these amigos got here before us. – He took out a small plastic card and slid it between the two sides of the door. Without the magnetic seals locking them together they slid sideways easily. When the door was opened, they faced a long dark hallway with plenty of side tunnels. They prepared their weapons and slowly inched forward into the thick darkness of the Museum. In the shadows were silence, and stillness, but with a sense of predatory anticipation.   
\- It’s a trap. - Said Hanzo in a matter of fact voice. Archangel nodded, wheels turning in his head.  
\- The question is, is it already sprung, or we have yet to step into it.   
\- Either way we should leave. Now. - Whispered McCree, his eyes darting suspiciously from shadow to shadow.   
\- And how do you know if that’s what they expect us to do? - Murmured Archangel slowly walking forward and grunted. - I’m not going to back down from my firs field mission in ages. If it’s a trap, I bet my ass on it that the mysterious Talon operative is the one who will try to spring it on as. We are moving forward. – Said Archangel and continued amidst the darkness of the hallway.  
\- Yeah but your betting our asses on it too. - Mumbled Lucio but he was silenced by the fiery gaze of their leader once again. 

The group slowly inching forward they reached the central hall of the museum. It had a dome made out of glass so it got enough light that you could see in here with almost no problem. The hall had a huge water fountain depicting the original founding members of Overwatch on a pedestal, and a huge mural about the Omnic Uprising. In one of the corners there was a couple of paint buckets, white covers, and a ladder, no doubt remnants of the works on the new wing. Besides them there was a row of benches, maybe stacked there so the workers wouldn’t have to walk around them. From the hall, dark corridors opened from every direction, leading to different sections of the building. The hall had a small staircase leading up to a second floor, which had a small circular path so the visitors could see the water fountain from a different perspective, and another row of corridors. Suddenly, a small light bloomed in the rim of the water fountain. It came from a small holographic projector, the same type most people use to record happy moments of their life to bring with them wherever they go.   
\- What the… - Archangel suddenly stepped forward and walked right to the projector. His team reacted too slowly and could do nothing but follow him. The projector was placed right in the edge of the rim. It almost fell into the now empty sunken pool around the fountain. It depicted two men in their early twenties, one of them were fair haired and had a wide smile, he held a cocktail glass in his hand, one which had a small umbrella on it. The other, a dark haired man wore a spotted party hat, a small bib with the sentence “Birthday boy” embroiled on it, and a very grumpy expression.  
\- You are crazier than a donkey on cactus juice. - Growled McCree grabbing the shoulder of his superior. - We are in plain sight here. What are ya doing? What’s that?  
\- A memory. From my past. Only two copies were ever made, one for me and one for the man I considered my brother, we took it on the celebration when we graduated from the super soldier program. But I have mine at home. And the holder of the other one is…

Before he could finish his sentence a sickly green light arose from the second floor. It was a man wearing some kind of visor which emitted the strange luminescence, his legs were wrapped in darkness which flowed like a thick fog. The shadows seemed to drip down to the first floor.  
\- Dead. - Said the man in in the visor. - But its shadow remains. Oh my, Archangel himself. Or should I call you Gabriel instead since we are old friend anyway? You were always horrible in codenames. They were much too obvious. - The leader of Overwatch tightened his grips on his weapons. Although his features were invisible under the mask, his eyes furiously scanned the man. He was the right height, but had unnatural light grey skin colour. He had the same hairstyle the man wore before his death and…The tell-tale scar on his face. He got it not long before the Official disbandment of Overwatch on a risky mission involving a high-profile arms dealer.   
\- You…that’s cannot be.   
\- What the heck is going on here? - Asked McCree cautiously scanning the room for any hostile. The shadows thickened.   
\- McCree, you should remember me too. Or at least the man who died to bring me to this world. I told Gabriel you are going to be a bad apple. But he never listened to me. – Said the man in the visor. - It pains me to see that I was right. You shouldn’t have joined with him in his rebellion Jesse. -The man shook his head, almost sadly and then looked back at Archangel. - I came to bring order to this world, and your organization stand in the way of it. I am sorry it came to this. Again. Goodbye. -He moved to lift his weapon, and suddenly the hallway erupted in weapon fire…


	9. Storm 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit about a well known musician and Talon's move in for a full scale assault.

After the Omnic Crisis Brazil was left in ruins. Most of its manufacturing facilities were destroyed, the famous beaches were littered with destroyed Omnic remains, the roads were dangerous due to countless old mines and explosives left lying around in the fights. Rio De Janeiro was flooded with refugees from the more rural parts of country, the people hoped the bigger cities will provide safe heavens. 

They instead became the biggest warzones. After the peace the country were left to pick up the pieces. The slums in the city expanded as people who lost their livelihood were forced to live there. This was the place were Lucio Correia dos Santos born. The boy was gifted with incredibly musical talents and used his knowledge to gather money as a street musician. Soon he was quite famous in the slums, and with his songs and lifestyle inspired the residents to seek better life and try to transform the ramshackled quarter of a city into a place where life is worth living.  
The future seemed hopeful, at least until Vhiskar got his eye on Brazil. The corporation specialised in the improvement of impoverished cities due to their revolutionary hard light technology which enabled them to create buildings and with minimal cost. The catch was that in the new Vhiskar cities were mostly under the control of the corporation. The former smaller restaurants, family shops, and other private businesses were forced to pay outrages rent prices which they couldn’t afford, or join up with Vhiskar. Soon the only way to pay for the rent of the new homes Vhiskar provided were to work for the company, and the only place where they could spend the money they got was shops and services provided by the corporation itself. Of course this left the population quite upset so curfews and strict regulation were commonplace and so is the cutting of certain civil liberties, such as the right of assembly. All in the name of protecting Vhiskar assets. 

When the corporation got the deal to develop the slums in Rio De Janeiro the inhabitants didn’t took it lying down. They were fiercely free spirited people, and they were unwilling to give up their liberties just so a corporation can exploit them. When the government refused to withdraw Vhiskars rights to build in Rio De Janeiro, they took matter in their own hands. They revolted against the would-be oppressor, destroying hard light generators and chasing out workers. The Vhiskar first started to retaliate by using sonic amplifiers, a crowd control weapon they developed. Seeing how the corporation twisted the thing he loved the most, music, and used it to attack the people he loved, Lucio couldn’t just stand around and watch. He broke into the warehouse where Vhiskar kept most of its sonic technology, and stole and destroyed vital components. Using the stolen parts, he built himself his own portable sonic amplifier, combining its power with his own mastery of music, and athleticism. Still, even though the people rallied behind him, Vhiskar got the government backing it up, it could have gone either way.  
The real deciding factor was something nobody could have expected. Dozen Ex-Overwatch agents, including the legendary Reinhardt Wilhellm joined the fight on the side of the civilians, bringing not only their own exceptional combat proves, but also their tactical expertise and military experience to the fight. This was the first time the successor of the old organization, the new vigilante Overwatch revealed themselves to the world. Much can be said about Vhiskar, but they weren’t stupid. Not long after the Overwatch joined the fight they did the reasonable thing and cut their losses, abandoning their development plans in Rio De Janeiro. While the inhabitants of Rio celebrated the Overwatch agents disappeared, along with Lucio...  
Nowadays in some areas the slums are the same as they were when Lucio left them, but others advanced considerably, new shops, music halls new buildings, and real houses. They did this following the examples Lucio and on their own power without sacrificing their freedom. 

\----

The HQ of the now vigilante Overwach was as hidden as secure. Even though the organization now consisted about a hundred people, including active field agents, security and medical personnel, they still had access to a quite formidable technologies to use. The complex itself where hidden in Canadian Rockies specifically in a valley sandwiched between two relatively uninteresting peak. It was first build as a bunker against the advancing Omnic army, but it was only half finished before the tides of war turned, and were left at the brink of completion in the end of the war. The Canadian government not wanting to waste more money on a now useless building project they give it to Overwatch. Since it had no strategical significance, it was left uncompleted and abandoned. After the disbandment of the Official organization, its illegal continuation purged the databases of its existence and took the facility and its still operational machinery. 

As years have gone by it was completed, and upgraded in secrecy by parties still allied with Overwatch, such as the Ironclad guild. Now dubbed as the Angels nest, it sported an impressive array of ground to air weaponry, automated defences, and early detection systems. It was truly fearsome…and all I took to shut it down was a couple of Sombra designed computer worms hidden inside a leaked information package. 

Of course, it contained a few of other viruses too, unsophisticated ones, just enough off them that when the data experts at Overwatch found and purged them they would think that their job is done. As the five, jet-black troop transport flier, all sporting the insignia of Talon arrived into the aerial space of the base, turrets turned, sensors blipped…  
And then after a fizz of purple sparks all of them deactivated before sending any signal to their operators. The planes fanned out and Talon agents started to slide down from ropes into the top of the facility. Two planes descended into the roof of the main building. The first ones two step out was two rank and file Talon soldier with their guns raised, when the area proved to be clear, they signalled back at the pilot. 

After them came two figures. One was dressed as the other Talon soldiers, black with a kinetic dampener vest, and a modified high velocity machine gun capable of penetrating a solid steel wall half a meter thick. 

He was the only one who wasn’t wearing a helmet, instead he wore something which were close to a present-day night vision google. It was much stubbier and instead of green, red tinted with a couple of indicator lights on its side. The device was an offshoot of a much more ambitious Talon project. It was originally designed as visor capable of seeing combatants through walls and obstacles in a hundred-meter radius. The project due to its immense cost, without a subject who could fully take advantage of the visor capabilities, were terminated. But some of its aspects were salvaged. While the hypothetical visor required a number of ultra-rare elements, and delicate machinery, and would have resulted in about one minute of full activation per charge, the offshoot googles where much cheaper and could grant about a dozen meters of visibility in three ten second bursts. It was still something a rank and file Talon goon would use, but higher-ranking operatives had access to the technology. Aside from the googles, the man’s distinguishing features included a small scar on his cheek, and messy slightly curly brown hair. His compatriot wore a colourful costume, consisting of a miniskirt, a short overcoat, high knee socks and neon gloves. The last one housed ten holographic jack interphase for ease of hacking. On her belt, a machine pistol dangled aimlessly. She wore her hair in a hairstyle which had one side of his head shaved, and left the other side long and coloured at the tip. The outfit altogether were…Purple. 

The man slowly run his gaze up on the women. She catches his glimpsed and smiled a predatory smile.  
\- You see anything you like amigo? Getting distracted in a mission, what will you write in your report if you make a mistake Kašpar? -The man gave out a small grunt.  
\- I will write down that a cake ornament looking nuisance stood in front of me. Just before I accidentally shoot her. – Sombra waved his hand dismissively.  
\- So salty. I bet you didn’t acted like that when you spoke with the boss. My-my how can peoples attitude change when they are not in front of authority. - Kašpar didn’t answer, just turned around and took out his communicator. It was a small metal cylinder, about as long as his pinky finger. He pushed the button.  
\- Spread out, block every possible point of escape. We have to act befo…- Suddenly sharp shrieking sound filled the air as sirens started blasting everywhere in the compound.  
\- SOMBRA! -Turned Kašpar to the aforementioned hacker. 

The girl was already concentrated on her holographic hacking display. She connected violet dots, reassigned symbols and wrote small code segment with a couple of finger movement. At least that was all that Kašpar understood about her activities. After a couple of second she shook her head.  
\- Puta. Nothing I can do sunshine, the alarm is analogue. It’s even on a different power source, probably some kind of archaic combustion generator or replaceable power cells.  
\- Great. Then plan B. – Kašpar lift his communicator to his mouth again. – Okay girls and boys. Any alarms you see, you put a bullet in it. Same with enemy combatants and Overwatch agents. Information officers and scientist are to be captured. If you encounter heavy resistance, contact me then regroup and push on while I arrive. Kašpar out. – The man re-checked his weapon and turned to Sombra. The Hacker stretched her back and smiled.  
\- You really can’t take your eyes of me hmm soldier boy?  
\- I was going to ask where are you going so my man wouldn’t accidentally shoot you when you use your thermoptic chemo…But you know what? Go out, get shot. If you die by friendly fire I will tell the boss the Overwatch got you, do whatever you want. – Sombra gave him a bright smile.  
\- Now you are talking on my language soldier boy. I will do exactly that. And don’t worry, I can take care of myself. See me around. - Sombra slowly pulled her hands down starting from the top of her head. As the hand descended the parts up to it faded into invisibility. At the end, even the hand disappeared. The whole thing only lasted for a second. - Or don’t.

\---

The siren was howling in the hallways. The personnel at the base reacted fast, which turned a straight up slaughter into a bloody and slow retreat. The security mostly consisted of volunteers and a couple of veterans from the time when Overwatch was a legitimate organization. Despite the help from their older comrades, the defenders were hopelessly outclassed. But they didn’t give up. They managed to secure some of the hangars, and started to evacuate any non-combat personnel they could while forcing Talon to pay every meter of their advance in blood. 

Gunshots filled the hallway leading to “Phoenix” mix of laboratory and workshop. A couple of seconds after two black boots impacted the door, which cracked in two falling inwards. The small window in the upper half of it shattered, covering the floor with glittering fragments. Two people came into the room, rifles in hand, ready to fire. Behind them a third one followed them slowly, while another two stayed outside covering the only exit. They all wore the black uniform of the Talon operatives and looked pretty much identical. The only one who had any distinguishing feature was the third one who wore a small golden talon symbol in the left side of its chest. It must have been some kind of rank insignia since it lift up its hand, prompting the two advance guard to stop and take up positions in the inner sides of the door. 

The room was mostly dark, only the slow blimping of a red alarm light providing any kind of illumination. Either Sombras worm or one of the Talon operatives shut down all power besides the analogue alarm system within the base. Standing in front of one of the desk, stood Jamison Fawkes, or as his codename denoted him “Phoenix”. The man still tinkered on something, slowly tightening some screws and muttering to himself.  
\- Come on, come on, come on. - He wore an oil stained lab coat, its edges were covered with small tears and burn marks, on his back there was some kind of contraption fashioned to be weared like a backpack. It was vaguely metallic, but also had a couple of rubber tubes, plastic cylinders and whatnot sticking out of it, and curving back after that. The top of the device had a small orange glow to it, like it contained something insanely hot, but well insulated. The bigger side of the backpack device was used to hold up a wheel of some kind, possibly made from the landing gear of a plane, all rough and makeshift on the edges but sophisticated machinery contained within the axis. 

The lights embedded in it blinked a little in and out as its owner moved, like they are trying to react to the changes in its balance.  
\- Freeze. – Said the commander of the Talon squad in a loud authoritative female voice. Phoenix stopped, and slowly stiffened his back. - Are you Jamison Fawkes, codenamed “Phoenix”?  
\- I…I am. And…you are? – Asked the man in the lab coat. His voice trembled a little. The Talon commander felt a small pang of uneasiness. She heard plenty of man scared for their life. Most of the for very good reason. It comes with the line of work. But somehow the tone wasn’t exactly right. Nevertheless, she decided to follow her orders.  
\- I have orders to detain you and bring you to the Dropships. If you know what’s best for you, turn around slowly and put your hands in the air. If you play it smart, no harm comes to you. Heck, you might be better off with us. Talon appreciates smart people Mr. Fawkess.  
\- And…If I resist? – Gulped Phoenix slowly. There was it again. The small sense in her that the tone was wrong. She shook her head. Focus on the mission.  
\- Then unfortunately we have to force you. We might even have to kill you. But we would like to avoid that. So be smart please and do what I said. – Phoenix let out a long sigh and sagged a little. His tone became strained and a little bit shakier.  
\- I wish you hadn’t said that. You know while I was growing up Patroclos taught me that violence is likely to end up in serious complication in the future of one’s social life and thus better avoided. – The squad leader nodded a little.  
\- Whoever this Patroclos was, it’s a good advice. So…-Before she could finish it Phoenix started to talk again.  
\- And I really, really try to do just like that. But you know sometimes I just can’t help it. I can’t help it because…- The voice of the man became shaky again. And this time its struck the squad leader what was nagging her all along. The voice wasn’t shaky because of fear, it was quivering with anticipation. There was a small click from the desk and then a giant detonation. 

They never noticed the remote mine struck not far above the door frame, and took up positions right in its blast radius. The small but powerful explosives pulverized the doorframe, and the shrapnel’s mangled the two squad member closest to it. Their torn bodies were thrown away by the shockwave impacting into a desk and a heap of vires respectively. The two guard outside fared not much better, they were partially shielded by the now vanished wall above them, but were still thrown into the ground by the force created and peppered by fist sized chunks of concrete.  
-….its jut too frikkin fun. – Phoenix spun around laughing and threw the detonator away. His eyes gleamed now. 

They had some sorts of madness behind them. In his hand, he held a grenade launcher. It was basically the same design he created while on the way from his remote home to the wider civilization. He had to have some kind of protection to deliver the data he acquired, he couldn’t let it fall to somebody who might destroy it, or worse. What came as a shock to him was how much he came to like it. How much it felt like an extension of his inner self. He pulled the trigger aiming to the two guard outside. They were slowly trying to push themselves up, still dazed by the shellshock. He never gave them time to recover. 

The grenade left the barrel with a sort of “Flump” sound and flew between the two Talon operative in a small arc. It was far from a mere explosive though. It contained sophisticated sensors, there is countless different forms and shapes of explosion and the grenade could produce almost all of them. It could flew apart peppering everything with shrapnel’s, it could concentrate its force into one small point blasting through armour like welding torch in tissue paper, it could detonate into a blinding flash of light, or just a simple hard force of shockwave with barely any flames at all, or the opposite, a huge flaming ball, without much force but filling the place with blazing inferno. All depending on the settings on the gun itself. 

Each grenade was a work of art in on itself. Phoenix smiled as the grenade detonated with a loud thunderclap noise turning the two outer Talon guard into two four-meter-long red smear on either side of the hallway wall. Phoenix slowly walked to the hole in the wall which was once occupied by the doorway. He slowly looked around outside for any further threat. “Amateur”. - Thought the Talon squad leader, girthing her teeth and pushing herself onto her elbows regardless of the searing pain. Even though the scientist took them by surprise, he was a bloody amateur nonetheless. Never turn your back to the enemy before making sure they are indeed all dead. She couldn’t feel her legs, either they were missing, or she got some serious spine injury. It didn’t matter now. She is going to take down that smiling maniac even if that’s going to be her last thing in life. She lined up her weapon…Out of nowhere a gigantic  
steel booth slammed down on her rifle, crushing it like a tin can. Before her, clad in the crimson glow in the alarm lamp, a gigantic man towered.  
The hulking figure slowly raised an equally oversized weapon at hear. Its barrel big enough to swallow a football. Oh hell. No wonder “Phoenix” didn’t watch his back. He had somebody to watch it for him. 

After the sound, akin to thousands of red hot nails blowing into a pound of flesh from point blank range, Roadhog slowly strided behind Phoenix, lazily cleaning his gun with an oily rag, succeeding only in mixing the red stains with brown ones.  
-What now? - He grunted looking at the smaller man. Phoenix looked up to him with gleeful fire in his eyes.  
\- We check if they get mercy or not. After that, we blast ourselves out. – Roadhog gave out a slow murmur and scratched his chin.  
\- It would be safer to just do the latter. -Phoenix shook his head and levelled his weapon.  
\- Nah, we are agents now. We have to help the others. Let’s go.


	10. Before the Storm ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situatio in the museum becomes more desperate as another Talon operative arrives. Their operation inside the Overwatches headquarters nearing its end too as they take someone very important hostage.

Gunshots filled the whole hall. The shoots poured out of the dark hallways, illuminating the masked faces of the Talon operatives. The Overwatch agents hurled themselves behind the only cover available into the empty water fountain. If they would have been just a fraction of a second late, they would have been torn to shreds by the high velocity bullets. Instead the projectiles peppered the masonry carving huge holes into the stone. The man in the second floor slowly lined up his weapon and let out a small series of shots. It swooped away just an inch left from McCree’s ear.

-God dammit!!- Swore the cowboy and hunkered down even more. -I knew it was a trap! Who is that guy??- Archangel just knelt behind the cover silently looking at his hands. – Archangel! -The man didn’t answer him. Just looked at his hands like he was mesmerized by something. 

At the same time Hanzo placed a scatter arrow on his bowstring, aimed, and let it go. The projectile was as far from its primitive ancestors as an air defence platform from a trebuchet. It contained a small but powerful battery. Upon placing the arrow on the string, it activated and produced a strong magnetic field, which held 4 additional tips together. After firing the arrow, the primary tip would impact, and due to a micro explosive contained within the shaft, shatter into deadly shrapnel. The secondary tips would also fly apart as the magnetic bonds vanish. They also contained micro explosives, and could hit enemies behind cover even if the archer had no direct line of sight of them, before detonating and turning into a cloud of deadly shrapnel. Hanzo’s aim, as always, was true. The arrow hit the ceiling of one of the side passages. 

After a brilliant flash of blue, the weapon fire from that passage was silenced. Hanzo gave out a small satisfied grunt. Lucio gave himself a little boost and doing a small circle in the inside of the bowl of the sunken water fountain, started firing with his sonic amplifier. He was mostly firing blindly in the way of the strongest gunfire. The shots that did connected transferred the sonic energy contained within them into the bodies of the Talon soldiers. They shredded eardrums, paralysed nerves and slammed the victim backwards to the nearest surface. 

-Line up your shots, and take cover. - Barked Revenant to his soldier. – They are Overwatch agents for hells sake, it’s not amateur hour. Don’t be overconfident just because we outnumber them. -The Talon agents slowly poured into the room in the covering fire of their comrades.

\- Dammit! - McCree shook Archangels shoulder. - We ned to get out of here! Or well be deader than a tuna in the middle of Mojave! – His commander shuddered. Clouded eyes focusing suddenly.   
\- Yes…Yes sorry. I was just a little bit disturbed. – Archangel shook his head slowly. - If we move out Revenant will snipe us from the second level. I draw his attention, and hopefully some of the goons too. Lucio do you have your Sound Barrier ready? - Lucio fired another couple of shoots, downing one more enemy, stopped, and hunkered down to Archangels side.  
-I have it. But I can only do it once or twice and after that I have recharge it. It kinda takes a toll on the battery of my equipment and no matter how energetic my personality is, I can’t produce high voltage from my dreadlocks. On the other hand, this is a terrible idea because…  
\- Hopefully it would be enough. – Said Archangel before he could finish. – When I distract them, you could make a break for it. With Barrier you don’t have to worry about the gunfire for a minute or so…  
-Hold on a minute. We won’t leave you behind. - Said McCree in a low growl. -Not a chance.   
-If you have a better idea I am listening. -Said Archangel lifting his shotgun and catching a Talon agent in the middle of its chest with the shot. The target tried to throw a grenade behind the Overwatch agents cover. The pellets had a surprisingly small spread, and the impact blow the victims chest apart in a mist of red. The grenade blinked as it left its owners hand, and fell to the floor. It detonated ad the unfortunate trooper took three of his comrades with itself to the other side. – I can take care of myself, see?  
\- Sure, but even you can’t take out all of them. You will be dead within five minutes. I don’t know who the hell is that guy up here, but I’ll be damned if I let you kill yourself just because he gave you some unpleasant memories. – Said McCree while he let out two bullets seemingly random at the direction of the Talon agents. Archangels eyes flared, and his hand clenched hard into a fist. Before he could say anything though, Hanzo touched their shoulders.

\- We don’t have time for arguments. Archangel, your plan is too reckless but you are the commander and I am willing to follow it if you wish so. I am capable of cleaning out hostile from a large area, if we combine this ability with Lucios Barrier we can all get out without anybody staying behind. – Archangel murmured a little and gave him a small nod.  
-All right. We do that then, if it isn’t enough we can still fall back to my plan anyway. Keep your eye sharps to the opportunity to…- Before he could finish what he wanted to say, a metallic flash parted the darkness from behind them. 

Archangel turned as fast as he could, lifting one of his shotguns. The knife left a visible chink on the weapon and went spinning around back into the darkness. But it wasn’t the only one. The second knife slid under the moving shotgun, got caught up in its owner sleeve, ripping the fabric, continuing onwards although in a slightly different angle. If it hadn’t encountered with any obstacle, it would have struck Hanzo right under his scapula, piercing his heart. With the fabric pulling it a little upwards, it pierced the cyborgs outer shell, and embedded itself into the bone with a metallic-wet thud. Hanzo gave out a small painful grunt, a lesser man would have yelled in pain. His left hand sagged down from the pain.

McCree spun around raising his pistol. Not far behind them, at the top of the fountain, a figure stood. Tall and skinny but somehow still muscular, clad in something dark. It was reminiscent of the normal uniforms the talon goons wore, it looked much more modern. Situated right on the heart, a device about the size of a human palm and intricately designed with small metal tubes. It looked like it connected to something inside the wearers body. The figure wore a half mask, with the stylized depiction of a snarling wolf. The eyes glowed in a slow earie orange light. In contrast to the expression of the animal, the man had a little contemptuous smile playing on his lips. In one of his hands he slowly tossed a third knife to the air, catching again, almost like the chaos around him was nothing else but some kind of boring tedious task he had to perform. On his other hand he wielded a small pistol, he now slowly touched the end of the barrel to his mask, in a mock salute.

McCree snarled and pulled the trigger. The man was faster than him, simply falling backwards. The shot aimed at his head missed him only by a couple of centimetres. 

-Who the hell was that asshole? – Bursted out McCree still searching the darkness with his eyes for the target.   
-An…another Talon operative. I think now, we don’t have the luxury to…choose our plans now. -Said a voice, a little bit strained behind him. He glanced back. Hanzo, although stood on his own, staggered a little. The knife was still embedded in his black, and the blood coming out of the wound had a sickly orange tint to it.   
-What the…-Archangel shot a too reckless Talon soldier who tried to advance. – Somebody help him. 

McCree already moved to pull out the knife, but Lucio grabbed his hand before he could touch it. His equipment now was pulsed with a gentle yellow light, slowly dulling its companions pain, helping their body to ignore any potential injury.   
-NO! I am not a licensed doctor, but I learned a couple of things from Mercy girl our resident life saver. And put an earplug in my ear and shut me in a noise controlled room if this glow isn’t caused by nanites. I think they are meant to slowly damage his body, I can’t shut them down, but I can keep them in bay with my healing pulse, but that’s about it. If you pull out the knife, and it nicked some major blood vessel…I will be unable to control the bleeding and...  
-We will end up with a dead cyborg archer. – Archangel growled. Something glinted in the shadows among the dead Talon soldiers not far from McCree.

He immediately somersaulted forward, and fired, aiming at the spot where the glint came from. Behind his original position, another knife embedded itself into the stone of the water fountain. There was a small grunt of pain and the eyes of the wolf mask again smouldering to life. The wearer of it now had a red line on his cheek, as the extremely near miss scorched it. His little smile widened into a more genuine one.  
-Mon Dieu. You are a fast learner aren’t you? This could still be fun.

 

\--

The door gave out a strained creek as the battering ram impacted again. It swung once more, and the lock gave away, tearing itself out of its place. The talon soldiers using the battering ram stopped when the door ceased being any obstacle and revealed the room behind it.

It was clearly a medical ward, intended to tend the wounds of returning Overwatch agents should the need arise. Right now, it was mostly in ruins, the sophisticated medical equipment’s, and consoles containing medical data, were all destroyed. The one responsible to their demise, the room sole inhabitant stood defiantly in front of an operating table, pointing her gun at the doorway. She wore her Valkyrie outfit now, it was a bit outdated, and still bore the scratches and dents of that fateful day years ago…She had a determined look on her face, but the gun trembled a little. 

The man with the battering ram stood aside, and their leader stepped into the room. He pushed up the device covering his eyes, the thing looked like some kind of futuristic night vision google with a red tint to its lenses. Under that, he looked pretty ordinary. A strong jawline, a nose that obviously broke and healed more than once, a small scar on the left side of his face. The strange googles now pushed up his curly brown hair, giving it a slight mohawk look. He had dull green eyes, the colour of the drying grass. 

-Stop right there. -Mercy warned him, raising her pistol even higher. Kašpar shrugged one of his shoulders and did so.  
\- Good day to you too Dr. Ziegler. -Nodded the Talon leader. - I came to abduct you. It might be a bit of an inconvenience to you, but unfortunately that comes with this kind of operation. Now, if you would put down that weapon. – Mercy just clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on its stock.  
-And why would I do that? - Kašpar nodded sagely and slowly.  
-Excellent question. I have several answers for that. Let’s start with the one you are most likely going to listen to. I was sent by the man named Jack Morrison. He wishes to meet with you. – Mercy’s eyes became somewhat glassy, and the gun trembled in her hands even more.  
-That…man is, dead. – Kašpar scratched his chins, apparently thinking.  
-I wouldn’t necessary deny that having seen what I seen. But he still wishes to speak with you. – Mercy swallowed, and struggled to keep the gun pointing at the Talon leader’s chest. 

Memories started to bubble up from deep within her mind. Memories which she tried to forget. From “The day of the Siege”. She was with a patient in another city, treating a young child. She couldn’t leave before it was certain that the boy survived. By the time she arrived, the battle was over, but the secondary explosion still shook the place. Despite the authorities trying to keep her away from the site, she charged to the flames and collapsing rubble, trying to save her colleagues, her friends. She was able to save some, most was beyond that by then. Gabe, most of his limbs were mangled or tore off, but he was still breathing. She saved him, but by the time she found Jack Morrison…The blood was everywhere, his ribcage was torn open, his body riddled with shrapnel…but she just couldn’t let him die. He was one of her closest friend within the organization. She knew him for years, she might even had some feelings for him. She had to do something. Anything. Her biotic technology is worked with the combination of supercharging the body’s natural self-repairing capabilities and the usage of nanites in repairing damage that could be not dealt with the former. The nanobots are programmed with very clear limitations in their capabilities in order to avoid any possible problem with them going haywire or creating erroneous changes. Limitations, that prevented them to repair a body which was beyond a certain threshold of damage. That threshold was a clear line. If you go step through it, you are playing with life and death, forces you were not meant to control. But she…just couldn’t let him die. And it was her technology, she designed it, she was the one who set the limitations, she could turn them off. And then…She shivered again. What came back, wasn’t Jack Morrison. Not anymore. That’s when she decided to never go out to the field again.

-What does…he, wants from me? – Kašpar looked her in the eye.  
-If I would know that, and I would judge it as something that would make you more cooperative I would tell you. As for now, I could try telling you that he wants to build a day-care centre for kittens and puppies and that you are needed there, but I will go on the assumption that you are much more clever than that and answer honestly: I don’t know and I am probably safer If I don’t speculate. Now, would you be so kind as to put down your weapon, I am only going to ask this nicely one more time. If you say no for the third time, I have to employ my second answer to your ‘Why would I do that” question. - Mercy tightened her grip on the stock of her weapon again. 

-And what would that be?  
-That you should put down your weapon or by the grace of God I will order my man to taser you until you black out and piss yourself. I was ordered to bring you in with as little harm as possible. Your agreement, your convenience, or your dignity for that matter, are not an issue for me.   
\- I refuse to be intimidated by you. I killed my fair share off brutes like you. -Said Mercy and stepped one step closer. Kašpar raised one of his eyebrows, maybe with approval.   
-You could certainly kill me, especially from this far away. No way I can dodge. On the other hand It wouldn’t stop all the screaming and tasering and pissing and such…Tell you what. I sweeten the deal. I tell my guys to draw back from the area near the hangars. We already placed some fusion charges around the base, but if your people are quick, much more of them could make it without the harassment of my troops. Well? If you refuse and shot me we will still take you and all of those people will die too. -Mercy bit his lip glowering at the man. Kašpar just looked into her eye with a little bit too much confidence to it to be entirely honest. The Overwatch agent gave out a small sigh.

-Give the order. I want to hear it before I lower my weapon.  
-All right then. – Kašpar touched something in his ear. -To all squads within sector 3, fall back to defend the main route to our planes, and prepare for departure. It’s an order. -And with that he folded his hands back to their previous position. Mercy eyed him suspiciously, but slowly lowered her weapon. The Talon leader nodded slowly and waved his soldier closer. Two of them stepped beside Mercy, taking her weapon and nudging her slightly with theirs. The doctor gave them a withering look, and one even more nasty to Kašpar. The latter one just shook his head.  
\- I am not currently your enemy Dr. Ziegler, there is no need for such looks. Hell I might even buy you a box of chocolate as an apology. - That earned an even more hateful look, before Mercy was escorted out. When she was out of sight Kašpar frowned. He never liked overdramatic scientist. Or most scientist anyway. In the olden days before the Revenant took over, most of the scientist Talon worked with could be summarised with the word “uncontrolled”. As in uncontrolled nuclear fission. Nowadays the Organization was able to pay for, or in certain countries, simply ask for competent professionals of their fields but his predisposition stayed. If a scientist is involved in any part of the operation, something is going to go bad. He touched his communicator again and relayed a new message. 

\- To all squad leaders. Secondary objective secured. Prime the explosives, put them on a 20 minutes timer. Everybody slowly retreat to its designated evac plane. – The answer was a flood of answers in the general notion of “Affirmative sir. “or some slight variation, and a single strained and half shouted “Negative sir!”- Negative? Who said negative?  
\- Dolohov sir. Senior member of Squad Sadik. Squad leader down, and we are pinned down. – Kašpar cursed audibly putting his googles back to its place.

He murmured a couple of codewords and the blueprints of the Overwatch base appeared in front of his eyes. They were downloaded by Sombra before the start of the action, and were a big help in organising the attack. Unfortunately, they were a bit out of date, the vigilante Overwatch made some pretty big modifications, but that’s was the best they were able to get. On the blueprint, orange points started to appear, marking were the various Talon squads held their position. Most of them was in a slow steady retreat towards the planes. With the exception of about 5 of them. Squad Owens were slowly whittled down to nothing from the start of the assault when they lost half of their number due to one especially tenacious injured security personnel. The brave bastard laid bleeding amongst his dead comrades before detonating a grenade when the squad approached it. Squad Soares and Tsukoda was isolated and ambushed when they pushed too far ahead of the main offensive. Kašpar already knew these even before his conversation with Mercy. What was new that Squad Jhaveris, who was sent to capture one of Overwatchs prominent scientist was also wiped out. Dammit to hell. - Kašpar thought. Jhaveris was a fine soldier and she was committed to the cause. The last one not advancing was Squad Sadik. There was only 4 of them alive now from the original 6, and Sadik wasn’t one of them. The Turkish operative was a recent recruited but had an instinctual grab of tactics and came from a military background. 

-Dolohov, I’ll send some reinforcements to your way. Squad Green and Lambrecht are close enough. They can be there in five min…-Before he can finish the soldier on the other line cut into his words.  
-Negative sir. I don’t know who attacking us but it’s some kind of maniac duo. One of them seems to have unlimited explosives. - As to punctuate that, the noise of a huge blast came through the radio. Kašpar instinctively winced and almost jumped for cover. – Blyat! Daniel is down! What part of the concept of suppressing fire you can’t understand Nylund?! -There was a faint answer from the other side, barely audible. “You fucking try suppressing something that throws grenades at you from behind cover, bouncing them from the walls!” -Sir if you send somebody, even if we get lucky and take these two, there is no way we can get back to the planes fast enough. Nylunds leg is busted, and I have a couple of shrapnel’s in my body too, and one of them can get people who are out of cover. It’s some kind of hook or something, we lost Avery that way. Go. We are going to slow them down as much as we can. Make it count sir, I am not going to let these `suka kill more of my comrades. They will perish with this base I will make sure of it. Tell the Revenant that we fought till the last. For the glory of Talon and for the real order of the world. Dolohov out. – The commlink devolved into a burst of gunfire and explosive and Kašpar tightened his fists. He touched his communication device again and now opened a channel to one of the most annoying people in the world. 

-Sombra, did you hear all that? – There was a small murmur from the other side.  
-I hear everything puta. What do you want from me soldier boy? – Kašpar took a huge breath and slowly blew it out. He was extremely angry, and although he trained to control his emotions, he would be the first one to agree that he wasn’t the best in it if it’s not about Revenant. In front of him even the most raving lunatic became a calm, collected, and absolutely terrified person.   
-Initiate lockdown in the hallway connecting Squad Sadiks location to the main route. Try slowing down our attackers, and search the database you get from the terminals for the identity of these mystery maniacs. – There was a little silence, then Sombra answered jovially.

-On the fly in the middle of action? You do have some trust in my abilities then. That’s so sweet. See, we can be friends after all. Don’t worry querido, it won’t take long. Half an hour, tops. – The leader of the operation tightened his fist even more. His fingers started to become very white.  
-That’s far too much time. I need it five minutes ago. – The girl on the other side snorted. It was the universal disapproving sound of every professional when a layman asks them to do the impossible as if that would be the easiest thing to do. “Oh, so you’re a neurosurgeon? My head hurts sometimes. Why is that? You should be able to answer that.”

-Sure thing Puta. Do you also have a specialized code breaking computer inside your ass, or only your head? Because if you don’t, then we have to use the one I have at the base if you want results that fast. I am not a damned God Machine or something, these are heavily encrypted, nobody else could do it, much less this fast. I can maybe do it in twenty minutes. - The operation leader almost started shouting but in the end, he only grunted and shook his head. No matter how annoying the hacker is, the current situation is not her fault. By the time he activated his commlink again, he was fully in control of his emotions.  
-Do that then, but prioritize closing the doors first….and thank you. – Sombra on the other side was apparently so surprised she couldn’t even think about a snappy comeback. In the end she settled with:  
-All right “boss”. I will be at the planes. If you have any other impossible request just give me a call. Sombra out. 

Kašpar glanced at the Squad display again. During the brief conversation, Squad Sadik lost another member. They were down to two. He closed the display, inspected his weapon and started to follow his squad which was currently escorting Ziegler. He won’t going to show them, or her any emotion, he will simply remember Dolohov’s sacrifice and blows this whole place up for Talon. As a professional should.


	11. When the clouds finally break apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When everything seems to fall apart, it doesnt hurts to have some friends.

The man wearing the wolf mask was relentless. Somehow, he had the uncanny ability to disappear amidst the mist of his comrades, and reappear in the most opportune time to try to hit one of the distracted Overwatch agents with either a couple of bullets, or a knife throw. This, combined with Revenant increasingly accurate series of shots from the parapet, and the constant assaults of the common Talon soldiers started to overwhelm the agents. Lucio got a grazing shot from the leader of Talon in the parapet, drawing blood from his left thigh, McCree lost his hat, the headgear was pinned to the ground by a knife a couple of meters away from cover. At the same time, the side passages slowly emptied, and the majority of Talon soldiers congregated inside, around portable covers they took with themselves. The things looked like metal bags, but when they placed down, the middle section straightened up and projected two small energy shields to either its side, creating a waist height barrier, big enough to be used by at least three people. Under the covering fire of their comrades, they set up their defences in a half circle, and started to pour continuous fire into the masonry behind which the Overwatch agents were hiding. It started to slowly crumble, under the constant fire. 

-We don’t have time. – Said Archangel, narrowly avoiding a small cluster of rocker fired from Revenants rifle. It impacted the main body of the water fountain, almost breaking it half. Water started to swell from the pencil thick cracks into the bowl in which Hanzo kneeled slowly breathing, trying to control his own pain. Being a cyborg, it shouldn’t have been this much of a problem, but the injury burnt like it was on fire, radiating pain into his whole body. – We are going with my plan. I distract them, you run. Lucio, prepare to activate your sound barrier then help up Hanzo. McCree, you have to cover and guard them.   
-Sir…-Tried to protest the musician but Archangels glare silenced him. - Man...you are totally messing up my rhythm. -He grumbled turning a couple of knobs in his sound emitter. McCree reloaded his gun, but kept his eyes on the leader of Overwatch.  
-As soon as we are clear, get your ass outside. Don’t die on us Gabe. – Archangels grip tightened on his gun and he glanced towards McCree, with sudden fire in his eyes ready to shout that he shouldn’t call him in that name. It was instantly snuffed out by the ice inside the cowboys. - Overwatch needs you. We need you. – Archangel shrugged snorting under his breath.  
-You are not a bunch of kids. You can take care of yourself.   
-Well thank the heavens because you would be the shittiest dad ever if ya ask me. But still, don’t go on dying, not like I care or something, it would be just super embarrassing in the pub. My mentor died on his first mission after years of sitting on his ass wasting space. – Said McCree, and a slow half smile spread on his face, but his eyes remained cold. Archangels eyes also appeared to smile and nodded a little.   
-Duly noted. Then I might as well go and give this thing a little bit of a test ride. – Archangel slowly patted the device on his chest. It pulsated with a slow golden light. – On the count of three. One…Two -McCree took an audible breath and straightened his back-…. Three. 

When he said the last syllable four things happened. The first one was Lucio slamming his weapon down onto the floor shouting “Oh, let's break it down!”. His suit flared up as its energy output suddenly increased. The vibrational energy of his sound emitter was spread and amplified by the ground, creeping up the bodies of his friends. It resonated them and radiated of his bodies, giving them a kind of barrier against weapon fire. The bullets impacting any person effected were basically redirected along the strong soundwaves their body gave out. Clear hits became near misses as the waves started to affect the bullets before they even came close to their target, modifying their trajectory. 

The second was the masked Talon operative bursting out from behind one of his man aiming his gun. His eyes widened when he saw what was coming, because the third was McCree stepping out from cover trusting in the barrier to defend him. He still held the previous breath, eyes darting assessing every hostile. What happened after that had nothing to do with his cybernetic enhancement. Instinct, years upon years of practice, and sheer talent kicked in, intertwining into something so primal no aiming equipment could properly replicate. He slowly breathed out. “Its high noon.” And swept his arm, emptying the barrel. The Peacekeeper, his old and trusty hand cannon hold six bullets. Eight talon soldiers fell when the bullets finally stopped and the talon Operative laid sprawled on the floor, under the corpse of one of his comrades. If anyone would have taken the time to examine what happened, they would have found that one bullet burst straight through one of the Talon soldiers neck, just to imbed itself in another ones heart, and that another talon soldier upon being shot, squeezed the trigger of his machinegun, downing one more of his comrade with him.

The fourth and last thing that happened was that Archangel faded into a golden glow and simply dispersed into the air. The Talon soldier behind their barricades uselessly peppering his empty spot with their bullets. Before they had the time to retarget and aim for McCree, the golden glow coalesced just a couple of steps behind them.   
-Not bad. -Said a voice behind them. – Let’s see some other function. -The fastest of the Talon soldiers spun around. He was just fast enough to see Archangels outline blur a little in a golden glow. For him, the leader of Overwatch suddenly became incredibly fast, from the other perspective everything slowed down. Still, Gabe moved his hands in a quick and meticulous motion, knowing that the effect only last a couple of seconds. He raised and aimed his shotguns, shot, raised again, and shot again. From an outside perspective there was no motion between firing. His hands just jumped from one firing position to another, without any of the necessary motions in-between. They just appeared, and disappeared, sowing death and pain among the enemy. Like the angel of death. The moment passed, the fastest Talon soldier smiled inside. No matter how fast were the guy, apparently, he wasn’t the best shot. He obviously missed him. Now he just has to…-Before the thought could finish itself, he fell to the floor, sudden warm sensation enveloping his chest. The pain. It should be incredibly painful…But it was just slowly dissipating warmness and waning consciousness. In a span of eleven seconds, under the counterattack of the Overwatch agents, thirty-six talon soldiers died, and ten more were injured when they got glancing shots from Archangels shots. 

The Overwatch leader panted tiredly and turned around, encountering with the gaze of Revenant. He was in the process of raising his gun, and squeezing the trigger. Archangel touched his device as fast as he could, he disappeared in a gold glow, before the bullets could have riddled his body, turning up just behind his enemy. He staggered almost hitting the closed double door leading to another exhibit on the second floor. His body became somehow numb, even his still organic body parts felt lifeless, alien for a moment. When he moved his hand, it trailed an afterimage, despite the movement being painfully slow now. The light of the chronal accelerator dimmed to almost nothing. Damn. -He thought- I used the device too many times in succession. It must be some kind of side effect. Something hard Impacted him from the back. Based on its shape, it must have been Revenants shoulder, as the thing which was once Jack Morrison tackled him instinctively. Archangel hit the door with a painful crunch and accompanied by the sharp noise of a lock snapping, fall through it to the other room. Archangel felt his body tumbling before crashing into a set of hardwood railings. 

This room also consisted of multiple levels. three to be precise. but its radius was much smaller. Most of the space in its centre was dominated by a gigantic robotic leg. Its original owner was one of the smallest Ironclad Titan types, a cadre of machines originally designed to be enormous construction platforms. During the omnic crisis the artificial intelligences twisted their original purpose, instead of creating new wonders of architecture, they became giants of destruction. This particular one was destroyed during the assault on the omnium in Detroit. Archangel shook his head painfully. His back felt like he was hit by a locomotive. The one responsible for it, Revenant was in the process of pushing himself off from the floor. It seemed like his instinctual charge, although strong as hell, wasn’t the best implemented operation from a close combat stand point. He overcommitted, and just like his enemy, he also lost his footing. Archangel, his head still fuzzy from overusing his modified chronal accelerator, swung his shotgun at his enemy and pulled the trigger. But the leader of Talon didn’t became who he was now by having slow reaction time and bad instincts. He throws himself to the side and the projectiles missed him entirely, only blowing out wood shaving from the open door behind him, instead of blood. Archangel also pushed himself away from the railing, doing a somewhat clumsy roll, saving himself from the small cluster of rocket, which turned the heavy hardwood railings into toothpick sized burnt splinters. He ended the roll by rising to his knee and firing booth of his weapons in the same time. The dual shotguns from this distance couldn’t miss. Literally. Their spread although relatively small for a weapon of this type, was more than enough to cover the entirety of the straight section of the walkway before him. With no cover in strike, the small pellets of death bloomed towards Revenant with an incredible speed. Then passed right through him, as if he was nothing more than an illusion made out of mist and malice. The apparition face, although under the extension of the visor, looked somehow like he had a wolfish smile now. It was entirely without mirth but full of anticipation. 

-You can’t kill me Gabriel, your weapon is useless. -Said Revenant, his outline slowly swirling, like the edge of a tower of smoke emerging from a smouldering home. - I am already dead. And soon you will be too. Though I suspect you are going to be much less sprightly. -With that, the diffuse smoke was solid again, and it was Revenants turn to fire. And he didn’t miss. Although Archangel tried to dodge, the round his him on the right side of his chest, one of them probably shattering his collarbone, and another piercing one of his lungs. He rolled from the sudden eruption of pain coughing up thick viscous blood. Revenant stepped closer, almost quizzical. -You know…it’s hard to believe. After all this years you will be out of my way. It’s kind of unbelievable. I will be able to bring the absolute order without you, you know? See it not as dying, but as a sacrifice for a greater good. -Said Revenant, and squeezed the trigger again. This time it interrupted Archangel in raising his weapon, the series impacted into his still unscathed arm, shredding flesh, breaking bones. The leader of Overwatch howled from the sudden eruption of pain, and looked at his enemy with undisguised hatred.  
-Even if you kill me…Overwatch, will live on. -He said fighting with the painful coughing. The thick blood choking him as he spoke. The pain was horrible, but he felt it clearly now. His mind wasn’t fuzzy anymore. Revenant shook his head in very convincing act of sadness.  
-No, unfortunately not. My forces are in the process of destroying your base. They will die, and you will die here. Overwatch is finished. You are broken and you cannot hurt me. Please just give up. – Archangel spat out a mouthful of blood.  
-Why…did you dodge? - Revenant stopped and tilted his head a little, as if somebody asked him a totally incomprehensible question. Archangel looked up to him from behind his mask, eyes glinting in the golden glow of the machine on his chest. – And…-He coughed again, his lung burning even more. -…why did you shot my arm, If I can’t hurt you?  
-Instincts. Hard to dropped them. -Lied Revenant without any change in attitude or body language. He raised his weapon again. - Last words?- Archangel nodded.

-You should have shot the accelerator. -He suddenly jerked his broken hand hitting the side of the machine, just as Revenant pulled the trigger. The ruthless bullets impacted into the defenceless floor and wallpaper of the museum, tearing large chunks out of them. When the magazine clicked empty, another metallic sound followed it. Revenant tried to spin to the left, but he was just a little bit too late. The shotgun shell exploded into countless pellets, the projectiles torn into the right side of his face, shattering the metallic plastic of his mask and visor just as easily as his jaw. He staggered, but never stopped, using the time he finished the spun to replace the expended magazine. Behind him stood Archangel, the bullet holes still trickling blood on his chest and arm, his lips and chin still stained with slowly coagulating crimson. Yet, he stood, and smiled.

-How?! -Asked Revenant in cold rage hiding his face with his hand.  
-Reconstructive teleport. Not so good with surface damage, but excellent in fixing internal stuff and bones. Phoenix is a fucking genius. Thank you by the way for waiting until the device recharged. You were always a real trooper Morrison. Revenant straightened himself out, letting go of his face. The smile froze on Archangels bloodstained lips. The mans…the things face, was horrifying. It couldn’t have been simply his shot, it had to be something else. Its skin, where there was skin, were sickly grey as if it were in an old movie, but most of his right side was even worse than that. The bare flesh was black and crimson, and sickly green glowing speck swarmed it by the thousands like flies on rotting carcass. Most of his jaw was missing showing the bone, also swarming with the small eerie dots. The bustling masses of specks pulsated, and waved, as if they were controlled by a singular purpose. It took Archangel almost a second to realise what that purpose was. They, grabbed oddly floating black specks of shadows from the air, and merged them with the damaged tissue. The Revenant was slowly rebuilt from nothing, by those nightmarish swarming dots.   
-You see? -Revenant voice was a low growl now, filled with cold and ghoulish resonance. – You cannot kill me. Reconstruct as much as you want. You will ran out of blood, or I get lucky and damaged that glowing device of yours soon enough. - He raised his pulse rifle, ready to shoot again.- Come Gabriel. Let’s finish this painful waste of time. – His voice was cold and certain, like he just stated a fact. Archangel felt himself shudder, even as he jumped to dodge the series of pulse shots. His enemy was right.

\---

On the other side of the hall, Lucio and Hanzo, under the guard of Hanzo reached one of the hallway leading out. It wasn’t a designated exit to say, but on the other end of it, as it turned, had a big window which was almost as good. With their leader preoccupied, their force decimated by Archangels earlier assault, and Lucios sound barrier reflecting their bullets the Talon forces was unable to mount a significant effort to stop them. They tried to follow them, but McCree’s aim was true, and anyone who came too close found itself with a new hole between his eyes. They were already halfway through when the sound barrier dissipated, leaving them vulnerable. The Talon soldiers, as if they have been waiting for that, started to pour into the hallway after them. The Overwatch agents found themselves without cover, in an enclosed place. The first shots started to bark, and one of them impacted into McCree’s cybernetic arm. It must have been a high calibre round, because when it hit him in the elbow, the metal shredded, and the cowboys arm became limp. Another one pierced Lucios waist, and only his constantly throbbing healing pulse stopped him from falling over. They would have probably died there, riddled by bullets, if Hanzo suddenly haven’t stopped. He pushed the audio medic of off himself and spun around raising the bow he still clutched in his damaged arm. With his functional one, he quickly draw an arrow from his quiver and fired it shouting:  
\- “Ryū ga waga teki o kurau” -The arrow flew, and after two meter or so splintered. Along the blue lines of the Shimadas mechanical body eerie light blossomed making their low glow into almost blinding. The air became electric, buzzing with unknowable energies. The Tlon soldiers barely had time to be shocked, before the very air condensed and flared up. Two giant Chinese dragons formed from nothing snarling with rage, snaking around each other. They tried to turn around and run, but the hallways were just as much a trap for them as for the Overwatch agents. They had nowhere to flee. The dragons consumed them, life and body, mind and armour were shredded like moths in a hurricane.

The cyborg fell from his feet. His blood, even more saturated with the sickly orange glow, spurted out from beside the still embedded knife as the movement of firing the arrow disturbed it. McCree caught him before he could land on the ground. He was unconscious, breathing heavily from the pain and exhaustion.  
-Damn, you are one stupid sack of shit. -He said with unconcealed worry in his voice. He lifted Hanzo to his back with his one functioning arm and nodded to Lucio. The musician gave him a pained smile.  
-I thought you are going to be our guard. - McCree shrugged and nodded towards the window.  
-One of my arms is busted and you got hit in your waist. You couldn’t support him now. Lead the way. -Lucio gave him a quick mock salute, and skated forward, ignoring the constant sting of bullets embedded into his pelvis. The pulse of his sonic emitter dulled it, but he could still feel them inside his body, and that was somehow even more uncomfortable then the searing pain he should have. He broke the glass with a sudden wave of sound. It shattered outwards in a thousand of pieces. He quickly broke down the sharp pieces around its frame with the stock of his weapon and climbed out. 

The yard of the museum was entirely dark, only the distant light of the street lamps provided some dubious illumination. The window led to one of the trails around the building. When the museum was operational they were used to help kids learning about Overwatch by visiting station which provided them with small challenges. While they walked around the trail around the facility, they could win free prizes by naming the various omnic types during the crisis, or by completing small task, like doing a couple of push ups representing the physical training the Overwatch agents had to go through before embarking on their first mission. This section of the trail was just a simple stone path between two stations. The other side of the path was a field of well-kept grass before somebody decided to park a jet-black troop transport plane on it. Its back was still open, revealing dozens of identical darkly coloured seats. It was obvious that it was one of the Talons dropships, it had significant differences compared to one the Overwatch agents came. For one, it was much more angular and combat ready design. It lacked any kind of identifiable feature, not only from the outside, but the from the inside as well. While everything looked like functional and militaristic, nothing had any actual insignia on it. The lamps glowed inside, and on the ramp leading down to the ground a stunned looking talon pilot stood, with a half-opened pack of cigarettes in one hand, and a lighter on the other. She cried out in surprise and fumbled for his gun, but Lucio let out a series of sonic blast, and one of them hit the woman right in the middle of her chest. She fell backwards as the concentrated sound waves spread through her body, utterly shutting down her nervous system. She crumbled to the ground, dropping her half-drawn weapon. The Overwatch agents shambled forward, trough the small rocky path towards the dropship. Behind them they left a small trail of orange glowing droplets as blood continued to trickle from the cyborg archers wound.

They were halfway there, when another one of the windows shattered outwards. It was the closest neighbour of the one they came out. With the shards of glass came a dark shadow, with smouldering orange eyes.  
-Oh for the love of fucking god. -Swore McCree and started taking longer steps. – I swear if we survive this I am gonna track that sonofabitch down and put a fistful of lead right between his eyes. – Lucio spun around and started to pepper the darkness where the glowing eyes slowly fixated on them. It was useless, the relatively slowly moving yellow projectiles missed entirely. The owner of the eyes shot towards them, moving with almost inhumane grace and speed. As he closed on them, the glow in his eyes, brightened. And so, does the one in Hanzo’s wound. The cyborg shuddered in pain, even in his unconscious state. Lucio quickly slid between the man with the wolf mask and the cowboy and archer duo. The eyes became somehow taunting. From the shade came a couple of muffled sounds. Gunshots from a silenced pistol…Lucio dodged sideways, but the enemy was expecting it. Without the speed boosting soundwaves, the musician was too slow, and three bullets hit him. One buried himself into his chest, and to other into his legs. He was fortunate that his luck held, and the bullet missed his heart by a couple of centimetres. His legs weren’t so well of. One of the bullets buried itself into his bone, while the other pierced the muscle all the way trough. Despite his soundwaves dulling his pain, he fell to his knees. Their pursuer simply stepped aside him, eyes smouldering with anticipation as he closed on his injured pray. Metal glinted in the darkness, but it didn’t fly out now. The man in the wolf mask simply draw the blade, he fully intended to use it in close combat. McCree clenched his teeth, and tried to ready himself to dodge the incoming lounge, although he knew that with Hanzo on his shoulders he had no chance to actually dodge it. 

But he wasn’t going to just drop him. He suddenly stopped, turning around and snarling at his opponent. If he had to die, then he will be damned if he will be stabbed in the back. The Talon operative now only two meters away lounged at them. McCree could see the bestial grin on his face, the burning fire in the eyes of the wolf mask. The man liked killing, he realised, he relished in it. About halfway through, a thunderclap came, and the talon operative convulsed in the air, missing them by a breath. He rolled on the ground with a sudden yelp off pain, and disappeared back into the shadows behind the plane as if he was never there. After him remained a trail of strange, orange glowing blood, leading to god knows where. McCree stood there for a moment, trembling in disbelief and shock. He came out of it only when Lucio fought himself to a standing position, and with slow trembling movements moved towards him. The cowboy shook his head, blew out the breath he was holding since the Talon soldiers lounge, and glanced around. In the air lingered the scent of gunpowder, high quality and strong. Somebody just saved their life’s.

\---

Archangel, seeing no other alternative, threw himself above the railing. The cluster of small rockets, intended to reduce him to mincemeat, whizzed behind him, destroying a replica bust about Jack Morrison super soldier candidate. He might have thought about the irony of it, if other problems wouldn’t have come up. Like the five meters fall below him. He tried to grab the leg of the giant Titan standing in the middle of the room, but it was too far away. He landed with a sickening crunch, and he felt his femur brake. He yelled out in pain, but already had to roll behind a potted plant to be behind cover from the salvo of Revenants pulse rifle. During the last couple of minutes, Archangel managed to shoot the damned thing at least four times. Any man, or omnic would have been dead by now. But not that monster. For fuck sake he had a hole in his chest a minute before, but it was already closing.

He cursed, inspecting his broken leg. The bone hasn’t pierced the skin, but only just soo, he could clearly see its outline under the skin. The adrenaline pumping inside his veins dulled the agony but it was just enough so that he wouldn’t piss himself from the pain. He could try to use reconstructive teleport again, but it was only a minute ago when he did it, after Revenant answered with the making of the aforementioned hole in his chest by basically gutting him with a series of pulse shots, and he liked his intestines inside his body. If he tries it again this soon, he risks overexerting the device again. Adter that, in his dazed and stunned state he would be unable to dodge any of the shoots the Talon leader aimed at him, and he would be dead in a couple of seconds. He glanced around the room. It contained a couple of mannequin, made to resemble the omnics who signed the first ceasefire at the end of the crises. It also had some painting about the event, and an enlarged print of the document. Nothing that could be used to his advantage. 

Then he noticed something. A small door not far from him, bearing the international symbol of emergency exits. It was only a couple of meters away. Without cover. With a broken leg. He heard a small thump, and risked a peek from behind the concrete flower pot containing a small decorative palm. Revenant also jumped down from the second floor, of course, he was entirely unfazed by the drop. He might have fractured something inside him, but Archangel was sure that the eerie swarm of glowing dots would take care of the problem within seconds.   
-End of the line Gabriel. Nowhere to run. -Said Revenant calmly changing magazines. - I will aim for the head this time. No need for unnecessary torment. -Archangel gave out a small growl of frustration, and did the same.   
-I am not going to go down easily. Came and take it. - He shouted, the room echoing his words. Revenant doesn’t reply just calmly started to walk towards him. Gabriel Reyes took a deep breath, raised his shotguns, and prepared to die. He rolled out from behind his cover, raising bot of his shotguns and fired. 

He didn’t miss, the shrapnel’s tore into the humanoid monstrosity who was once Jack Morrison. His chest where shredded, his guts full of pellets. The Revenant shuddered and had to take a step to stabilize himself. Then he shook his head, and raised his gun, prepared to finish his work. Something flew from the direction of the emergency exit. It impacted in the space between the two combatants with the tingling sound of broken glass. A splash of glowing liqid covered both Revenant and Archangel. The latter one felt his pain dulled by the strange substance, his smaller wounds closing, knitting themselves together, not unlike Revenants were before. He could see the small specks, much less ghoulish looking, glowing with warm and healthy yellow glow easing his torment. 

Revenant on the other hand, for the first time since the fight started, howled with pain. The liquid had an entirely different effect on him. The yellow dots appeared to attack the ghoulish green ones inside his body. The eerie swarm of specks responded by ceasing any other function but combat with the invaders. They would overwhelm them, but it will take time. Which was just perfect for the one unleashing the yellow ones. A small projectile, looking like a miniature syringe flew through the air and embedded itself into the chest of Revenant. The Talon leader grabbed it, and tore it out, but it was already too late. He felt his body becoming empty of feeling, muscles numbing and becoming unresponsive. His unnatural helpers occupied, there was nothing to stop the heavy-duty sedatives from taking effect. He tried to focus his fading sight, and he appeared to notice something behind Archangel.  
-Y…You?-Before he fell to the ground, unconscious. The leader of Overwatch twisted his head backwards. In the opened emergency exit stood a familiar figure. She was much older than the last time he saw her, her once black hair was ashen now. Under her one remaining eye the lines were much more prominent than before. Yet her smile was the same as before. Tired but genuine, and somehow filled with warmth normally found only in a cup of coffee besides a campfire in the cold night of the desert. Ana Amari stepped closer, extending her arm towards him to help him up.  
-It is good to see you again Gabriel. You look…- He glanced him up and down. Taking in the cracked mask, the glowing golden accelerator, the heavy-duty military boots. -… ridiculous.

\---

Roadhog wasn’t famous for his long and eloquent speeches, but that doesn’t mean that he was dumb. He was just simply the kind of men who think about things long and hard, maybe even twice, before mentioning it to anyone, if ever. He had a simple worldview which became simply not by virtue of its owner being stupid, but by originally having a very complex one, before the hardships of the world slowly scraped away the unnecessary things, and the only thing remained was a hard and undividable core set of beliefs. His main one now was that he will defend Jamison no matter what happens. It might have been incomprehensible for somebody else, why would a giant musclebound criminal of a man suddenly just decide to start caring for someone, but it was completely obvious to Roadhog himself. 

He met the kid years ago on that ruined research station, he was a teenager yet he still wore clothes two sizes bigger than his. The first time he has seen him, he stopped doing whatever he was doing currently – Which was screwing together two unrelated piece of metal. - and approached him with a big, but shy smile on his face. He offered his hand in friendship, and invited him inside. He had nothing but a bowl of algae to offer to Mako, which he indeed offered, all the while talking about everything that came to his mind. He basically just dumped his admittedly short life story into the giant man, without even stopping to breath. It was kind of charming actually, in a childish short of way. He talked about growing up alone, and how the AI of the station taught him to be polite with people of they are not attacking him, and about how much he liked to tinker. He even showed Mako a couple of things he did, simply everyday things he built and the significance of which he seemed to be unaware. Power converters made from scraps of metal, old solar panels upgraded by his hidden spark of inventive genius to be even more efficient than before, jury rigged data slates he used to keep Patroclos alive despite the deterioration of the AI over the years. Things that would have been impressive even outside the burned out rust bucket Australia became. Anywhere else he would have been a prominent inventor, somebody who can make a significant impact on the world. Roadhog would have like to think that was why decided to get him out from there and protect him even if its cost his life, but it wasn’t the case. The kid just looked like he needed somebody. Too many times Mako seen kids just like him broken and destroyed by the outback. He was unable to save any of them, or he at least convinced himself about that. But now, when he had already decided to cast aside his life, maybe he could use it for something worthwhile instead. It was so long ago…He grown quite a big since then.

A sudden explosion woke Roadhog from his thoughts. Phoenix blow the smoke out from the end of his grenade launcher and grinned at him happily.  
-Did you see that Roadhog? I think that was an excellent explosion. Isn’t it? Did you see it? Roadhog did you see it? – Mako gave out a big, not entirely unhappy sigh. Who does he kidding with? He was still a kid trough and trough.   
-Yes. – Answered after a second of deliberation. -It was good. We should move. – Phoenix nodded happily and stepped out from behind the column they used for cover. The room had 4 big columns inside it, and around ten metal table. The latter ones were piled up in the other side of them room forming a makeshift barricade. Now most of the aforementioned barricade was mangled and torn by the explosions unleashed by the grenades Phoenix shot at them. The place was originally a dining area for the staff responsible to maintain the base cyber security. It They were off course already moved to evacuate just like other members of the civilian staff although Phoenix had no idea how many of them made it. He should have felt sorry for them, but frankly, they obviously did piss poor job. 

The scientist stepped over a fallen light fixture, it must have been damaged when he tried to ricochet one of his grenades from the ceiling. Roadhog followed him, and due to his immense steps, easily got ahead of him. He glanced behind the crumpled metal tables, shotgun in hand. The caution this time proved to be unnecessary. There wasn’t any surviving Talon agent waiting to ambush him with a series of shoots. The small area between the double door and the makeshift cover before it was a painted crimson. The explosions that took out the gunners behind it didn’t do a clean job. Gore and viscera covered the floor und a gooey mess. Some of the bodies were still recognizable, notably one behind a heavy machine gun which was broken into two by a close explosion. This Talon soldier lost booth of his hands, but otherwise looked intact. Roadhog grunted and moved to the double door, his huge foots belching in the muck with every step. Phoenix stepped beside him with a slightly green expression.   
-I have to say…Explosions are much more entertaining if you don’t have to see the consequences up close. – Roadhog glanced at his protegee. For a moment a couple of images fought itself to the surface of his mind. Memories he wished to forget, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t. A gigantic shockwave, a huge mushroom cloud rising above the Outback, the indescribable destruction. Then he shook his head.  
-You have no idea. -Grunted the musclebound giant, and pushed the door. It didn’t budge. A small beep indicated that the it was locked.  
-What the…- Phoenix blinked knocking on it a couple of times. He inspected the electronic locking device and pulled out an identification card from under his dirty lab coat. He dangled it in front of the sensor. Three red led bleeped in unison. -That’s strange. 

A painful cackle bursted out from behind them. He winced, raising his grenade launcher ready to fire. It was the Talon soldier who lost his arms. He was still alive, or at least not fully dead yet. His eyes tried to focus, but it proved to be a futile endeavour. He instead closed them.  
-You…you will die here with us. The charges…They are activated. Couple of minutes. It will be all over for you, and me. They already took what they wanted…For…For talon. -He cackled again, madly. He would probably have continued it if not for Roadhog who raised his shotgun, and promptly blew his head off. Phoenix winced again, looking up to his gigantic friend.  
-Roadhog. That was rude. He was no threat to us.   
-But he was in pain. More humane this way. -After a little bit of deliberation, he added. -And he was annoying. – Phoenix nodded and returned his attention, then suddenly froze. His brain filled with adrenalin from the sudden scare, only now registered the meaning of the worlds. Synapses which for the last half an hour was contended with drowning in the joy of explosions suddenly found themselves sobering up post-haste. Roadhog noticed his partners sudden stiffness.  
-Yes?  
-They placed charges. -Phoenix mumbled and he ran his hands through his hair. – Off course they placed charges. That was only logical. And what did he say? A couple of minutes and they are going to go boom. If I were them, I would have used fusion charges, they could level a whole mountain. I think…

Before he could finish Roadhog suddenly grabbed his lab coat and lifted him up from the ground. He threw the surprised Jamison on his shoulder, in a way that he could see, and if necessary shoot with his grenade launcher, then he kicked the door with all of his strength. The flimsy metal dining room door burst open, and Roadhog started to run. Despite his considerable beer belly, he wasn’t really out of shape. Nobody was who wanted to survive in the Outback. Under a thin cover of fat, considerable muscle mass hid, one of which he made great use in combat.   
-Hey…Oi hog! - Phoenix started to squirm when the giant made a trun in a hallway. -I don’t think that’s the way towards the Infirmary! That’s where Mercy are, you know? – Roadhog grunted kicking open another door, leading to a hallway close enough to the side of the building to have windows. He glanced towards them, and started to increase his pace. All around the Overwatch base, jet black troop transports started to leave. Two were already on the air, but one was still boarded by Talon soldiers by the looks of it. Mako suspected there was more but from his angle of view he couldn’t see them. – Rooaaadhooog!- Yelled Phoenix, trying to prime his partners fingers from his back.-We have to go back for Mercy.  
-I think they took her. If we die here, then we can’t save her. – Summarised the situation Roadhog not slowing down. - We have to get to one of their planes…  
-Because if they are already leaving the explosion must be pretty soon. -Finished Phoenix before him. -We wouldn’t make it out of the base on foot, much less getting to safe distance. -Roadhog nodded approvingly and stumbled but stabilised himself and kept the pace. He started to breath heavily under his gas mask. No matter how much muscle he had, gas masks and Roadhog in general, wasn’t designed for long distance running. Mako much more preferred the transportation via a heavy-duty chopper. He cursed himself inside that he left his Harley in the bases vehicle garage. Now it’s going turn into dust just like everything else. Talon will pay for that. Oh, and for the dead base personnel too of course. He stopped for a second when he encountered the steps leading up to the roof of the base. Friggin hell. -He thought. Before he could start to climb them, Phoenix was at last successful in getting himself free from his grip.

 

-I can carry myself. I am not going to run away. If you say we should first get to safety. I trust you. – Nodded the scientist when Roadhog looked at him questioningly. The giant huffed and gave him a small shrug before they started to climb the stairs as fast as they could… At the top of them, a reinforced security door stood their way. Far from the flimsy internal doors of the base, this one was designed to deter any attacking force. And unfortunately, it must have did so, because it was obviously wasn’t cut through by the Talon soldier. They probably used some other entrance, or hacked the door to open for them.   
-Well, we are in a bit of a raw prawn here. -Panted Jamison. Roadhog kicked the door hard, testing its strength. He shook his head, grumbling, and looked at Phoenix.   
-Can you blow it up?  
-There is no harm in trying, is there? – Grinned nervously the scientist. – Let’s go back a couple of steps. – They descended, until the door disappeared behind the turn of the stairs. Phoenix took a big breath and cracked his fingers. It was the time to test his latest and greatest invention. He reached to his back, and took down the wheel fixed to his backpack. He placed it down, and the machinery inside of it instantly came to life. Sophisticated balance sensors instantly stabilised it in place, despite the stairs under it. Phoenix looked at it proudly then he gave it a nudge. The wheel started to roll upwards on its own while its creator rolled up one of his sleeves. Under the smoky and charred lab coat, a small device was fixed to an armband. It came to life, creating a miniscule hologram of a wheel, the stairs, and the wall. Phoenix waited while his creation rolled upwards, and its sensor fully mapped the top of the stairs, and touched the representation of the security door, tapping on it twice. 

The sound was deafening, for a second, Roadhog feared that it was caused by the fusion charges. The whole base shook, cracks rans trough the concrete stairs, and dust rained on them. Roadhog stepped beside the turn, and looked up to the door. The entire security door was bent outwards, now he could see exactly how thick it was. Fifteen centimetres of steel with titanium fibres run through it for added strength. The explosion would have evaporated a tank, but although the door looked like as if a titan punched it, it wasn’t entirely open. There was a gap between its wings, around the width of a human hand, where he could see trough, but there was no way any of them could get out. Phoenix stepped beside him with a hopeful expression on his face. It quickly withered and he kicked the stairs.  
-Bugger. What now? -Roadhog growled, and rushed the door, hitting it with his shoulder. There was a painful smack, as he hit it, and the door shook a little, but nothing else. He stepped back, and did it again, and again in silent fury. No. He is not going to die here. His shoulder started to hurt like hell, he was pretty sure his collar bone started to crack. He ignored it, slamming his body against the metal, again, and again. The gap widened a little, and again. But it was already too late. Talon most likely already left with their planes. They couldn’t get out before the charges go of. Lastly, he gave out a loud grunt, and thudded the metal with his fist impotently.  
-Bloody hell. -He stepped back, looking at the mangled hunk of metal with useless hate.   
-I can use my mine. -Tried Phoenix meekly. Roadhog shrugged. If the other explosion wasn’t enough, the mine is going to be just as useless as his pummelling. He took out a gas canister from his pack and placed it to his gas mask. The cannister, filled with anaesthetics, and minor performance enhancing drugs filled his lungs. It wouldn’t help, but at least it dulled the pain in his shoulder.   
-Jamison...-He started. He wanted to apologise to the kid, that he couldn’t protect him. Maybe say something clever. 

Before he could do any of that, a shout exploded from outside. It wasn’t familiar, and had some kind of accent to it.  
-Get back from the door! - Just a second after the voice, the jingle of breaking glass filled the air. The jagged tortured metal of the security door suddenly erupted into flames, as if it was made out of plastic instead of reinforced steel. It wasn’t ordinary fire, it burnt in blues, greens, purples and half a dozen other colours. The kaleidoscope flames started to melt the obstacle, which could have theoretically withstood the heat of an ascending booster rocket used to put satellites into orbit. There was another shout, booming, and this one familiar. The voice was full of power, and echoed as if a hero from the old German sagas came to life.  
\- „Hammer DOWN!”- A solid slab of titanium alloy, given power by well-trained muscles, and a couple of miniature get engines, impacted into the security door. The unfortunate metal, first torn by impact, then half melted by chemical fire, and lastly impacted by a force akin to a steam train, finally gave up. A huge chunk of it snapped down with a thud of finality, its edges still dripping, melting, under the unknowable cocktail of voracious chemicals. On the other side of the now more than wide enough gap, stood a figure clad in power armour, smiling widely and warmly. - Guten tag my friends. Fear not for I am here.


	12. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During their first engagement Overwatch clearly lost, yet Talon paid a high price and was unable to utterly defeat the vigilante organization, as they hoped for. The die is cast, the line is drawn, and next time both sides will be more prepared.

Archangel let Ana help him up, standing on his unbroken leg.   
-How did…-Before he could finish the question, Amari raised his finger.  
-Not now. We have to go. I don’t know how long the seeping dart is going to keep him down, but I doubt it is more than a couple of minutes. We will have time to talk once we are out of the danger. – Archangel gave her a tired nod. Ana ducked under one of his arms, and helped him move. Behind the escape door was a sidewalk which led to a rocky pat, curving around the building. The Museums yard otherwise mainly consisted of bright green grass with a couple of decorative thuya, and a fair few of statues about the various members and founders of Overwatch. 

-Came on, When I arrived I saw a Talon plane around there. – Nodded Ana with his head towards the end of the museum. - If we are lucky, your men are already there. I left my pupil there to cover it if she sees them.  
-Pupil? -Asked Archangel, granting from the pain still radiating from his leg. It was much less pronounced than before, and he suspected that when they have a couple of seconds to stop and rest, he can snap it back to its place and the strange healing goo would take care of the rest. Ana gave him a small sad smile.   
-Yes, Amélie Lacroix. Although she likes to be called the Widowmaker nowadays. – Archangel almost stopped from the surprises, but he caught himself before stepping on his injured leg.   
-Oh. I guess its explain some things, like why you two both disappeared. Will you tell about that too? -Ana sighed and shrugged while they finally arrived at the other side of the corner. 

Behind the museum a Talon transport were landed. It was opened, and not far from the end of it stood McCree, one of his hands hanging limply. In the other one he wielded his six shooter, eyes scanning the darkness. When the two shadows appeared from the shadows, he immediately raised his gun. It took him a fraction of second to notice the golden glow on one of the figures chest. He quickly jogged closer, to grab the other hand of Gabriell.  
-Well damn hell. It is good to see that you can still fight like a maddened bull boss. – Grinned the cowboy. When he was just a couple of steps closer he noticed who was helping Archangel. He stopped, as if struck by lighting.   
-A...Ana? What the hell…How?   
-Good to see you too McCree. You haven’t lost any of your famous charm and politeness. -The cowboy cleared his throat in embarrassment. He felt like a child scolded by his teacher. Trying to conceal his embarrassment he tried again.  
-I am sorry ma’am. I am just…well, surprised to say the least.   
-It is all right. I know you are not a bad kid Jesse. -Smiled Ana much more warmly than before. -I will tell you in due time, but we better go. -Archangel nodded and let McCree take his other arm and help him to the ramp on the end of the plane.  
\- I couldn’t take down Revenant, he will be here in all too soon. How is everybody? – Before McCree could answer, he has already seen it. Inside the troop transporter Hanzo laid on his stomach. The cyborgs back was by this time fully drenched by the strangely glowing mix of orange and crimson. Beside him knelt Lucio, he himself also trickling blood from more than a handful of holes on his body. The soothing yellow throbbing of the Sound Emitter filled the inside of the plane.  
-Lucio said…He…-McCree became silent for a moment. - He doesn’t know if he can keep him from bleeding out or not.   
-Damnit. -Swore archangel hopping to one of the chairs lining both side of the troop transport, and freeing the cowboy and Ana from supporting him.   
-I might be able to help a little bit. -Said the older Overwatch agent. 

This was the first time when Gabriel had time to properly asses her. She wore a faded olive trench coat, with an old red beret which also lost most of its colour most likely from being exposed to the sun for too long. One of her eyes was covered by a black eyepatch. It looked relatively new, and had a cracked Overwatch logo on it. Archangel couldn’t help but wonder where she got it. Her left hand was covered by a band of blue plastic and metal which had some kind of syringe launcher incorporated into it. The syringe was missing but the tube containing whatever did she used to put the Revenant to sleep was still more than half full. On her shoulder hang a strange looking sniper rifle. It was mainly blue, consisting of metal alloys and super strong plastics, but its design looked somehow familiar to Archangel although he couldn’t exactly place it. Its owner reached under her trench coat and took out a small hourglass looking thing. It was vaguely shaped like a futuristic hourglass, but instead of sand, the glass compartment contained a mass of yellow dots warming on each other. She tossed it to Lucios hand. -Break it apart above the wound. I have to call my pupil. As soon as she is inside, we are deporting. – The sniper stepped out from the troop compartment and gave a whistle. Then a couple more, apparently in some kind of code. The answer was two other from somewhere around the top of the museum. Archangel had a small smile when he heard the familiar notes of the barber’s knock. After that a sharp metallic thud could be heard, as the end of a grappling hook impacted the metal of the plane.

A couple of second later, a woman landed, already half inside the troop transport. She wore a form fitting deep grey outfit, the kind which lets the wearer easily melt into the shadows, in contrast with the actual black which stands out because of its pure darkness. She had long black hair, kept in ponytail, and emerald green eyes. Her gaze was indeed the same as a gemstone, cold, lifeless and polished into sharp edges, yet still combined with some kind of strict beauty. Her weapon was also a sniper rifle, in fact the same one her mentor used before they disappeared all those years ago. It had a couple of modifications, and looked deadly enough, but it was definitely and older model now. The wear and tear of its usage manifested itself into more than a couple of scrapes and bumps on its stock. The women looked at Ana…and then slowly shook his head.   
-I didn’t get him. I was forced to shoot prematurely when he attacked the cowboy. They were in the way. – McCree snorted and stepped closer.  
-Now listen to me miss. Its not like I had the cho…- The womens sniper rifle almost flew of her back. She pushed the end of the barrel to meet McCrees nose.   
-Don’t come near me. I already gave up something important today to save your life. I am not in the mood to waste time for pleasantries with fools like you.-The older soldier sighed, and with his right thumb pointed at the pilot seat.  
-On that note. Would you be so kind and take the pilot seat? I have a couple of things to deal with here. – The women narroved her eyes on the now fuming McCree, then lowered her weapon. Stepping over the unconscious body of Hanzo the women who was once called Amélie Lacroix took the pilot seat and started to close end of the troop transport. 

-Whats wrong with her? - Growled McCree giving a sharp look to the back of the pilot seat. Widowmaker either didn’t noticed or didn’t care.   
\- She…has some issues. Its her choice to talk about them or not. Still, sorry about that. – Apologized in a sad tone Ana. McCree glanced at her, shrugging.   
-Its not your metaphorical shit ma’am. You shouldn’t apologize for it. -He moved to sit down as the plane started to lift of. Then it suddenly jerked to one side, before stabilizing again. The inside of the troop transport was filled with the noise of bullets peppering the outer hull of the plane. Then its jerked onwards, and the sound suddenly stopped. Archangel listened for a couple of seconds, then blew out a big breath.  
-I think we are out of the immdeate danger for now. How is Hanzo?- Luci finished pouring out the viscous yellow liqid from the device he broke. The thing clong together like honey with a thousand flecks of light inside of it.   
-Nanites. -Blinked the musician. – These are nanites too aren’t they?- Ana nodded a little.  
-You think this is going to be enough? – Lucio inspected the wound and grimaced a little. Liquid seepd into the wound and where It touched the orange glow it slowly faded into yellow.  
-I think it will save his life. At least for a while. But he need at least a moderately well equipped infirmary to get him on the road of recovery. At least in my opinion, I only dabble in the healing art. Just some smooth music to sooth the soul. That’s my main thing. This needs surgery. And…-He looked down to his waist and shuddered.-I wouldn’t mind if somebody took out the bullets from my body too. 

-Then lets go home. -Said Archangel inspecting his broken leg. It was now covered in a huge purple bruise right around the shape of the broken bone. It only dimly pulsated now, under the resonance of Lucios healing, but it still didn’t looked too good. The pain helped him to remember something. Revenant…he said they attacked the base. He looked around inspecting his companions. He had a broken leg, although that can be fixed by reconstructive teleport. Not inside the plane, but if they stop for a couple of minutes, he can take care of it. On the other hand McCrees mechanical hand would need a serious repair, Lucio only functions because of his constant healing. Without that he would presumably succumb to the shotwounds pretty soon. And Hanzo…It wasn’t even sure he could survive a normal trip, much less fighting trough a horde of enemy combatants before he get some help. To make things worse, they were piloting a Talon transport. Even if every word Revenant said was a lie, they would probably be shot down by the automatated defenses of the base before they can tell the base personell to shut them down, especially if the base under attack too, and the defenders see another enemy flier coming in. -No not home. It might be compromised, and we are in a Talon plane. It might have a tracker too. – McCree clenched his teeth, glancing to the injured cyborg.   
-Then where to? I doubt the emergency base is close enough to reach it with this flier. And as you said, if there is a tracker in this old nag, Talon could learn where it is. -Archangel didn’t answer. During their years operating as a vigilante organization, Overwatch built up quite an impressive number of secondary bases and hideouts. Unfortunately most them either didn’t have any full time personell on them and the cyborg would need a medical professional. 

-I don’t know. We need some place, were we can be safe, and they can save Hanzo’s life. – As to the mention of his name, the archer shuddered awake, just for a moment. His face contorted into agony, but he apparently just pushed it down for the duration of one sentence. His voice was weak now, and tired.  
-Shambali…Get mo to Shambali. Hurry…- He gave out a small weak sound which was a mix of painfull grunt and a whine, almost like a small animal. McCree stepped beside him and slowly patted his hand.  
-Don’t worry, we will get you there. Right commander? – He turned towards Archangel.

The leader of Overwatch thought for a moment. Shambali…It was famous about their monks doing good in the world wherever they could. Negotiationg treaties, helping in more than one humanitarian crises, saving civillians from war zones, those were only a couple of thing they did under their leader Tekhartha Zenyatta. And besides that, everybody knew that while they are generally neutral and helpful, in many countries trying to hurt an innocent while they are around is considered legally as a suicide. They are also accomplished healers, although Archangel didn’t know anything about their exact methods and abilities. Still, all in all, it wasn’t like they had many other choice, and considering Hanzo’s previous association with them they aren’t likely to refuse to help. At last Archangel inclined his head in agreement.  
-Yes, then that should be our destination.   
-Its going to be about an hour. – Said Widowmaker from the cockpit in a dead-pan voice.   
\- Al right. That should be more than enough to time to explain yourself. -Turned Archangel towards his old comrade, who was currently in the process of sitting down and fastening her seatbelts. Ana raised her eyebrows. – Don’t misunderstood me. I am gratefull for saving our hides and all. But you did kind of dissapered for years. -McCree raised his hand in agreement.  
-Seconded ma’am. It is story time. – Ana looked at them and slowly traced the outline of her eyepatch absentmindedly. The movement looked almost instinctive, like she done it a thousands of times.   
-All right. I guess I should explain ourselves.

\---

Revenant awoke with a ravenous hunger. His wounds already closed together, and the seering pain from the strange liquid already dissipated. He reached for his weapon and pushed himself up to stand. The emergency exit was still slightly ajar. He growled and touched the communicator in his ear.   
-Attention to all Talon soldiers. I was ambushed by Ana Amari former Overwatch agent and got incapacitated for a couple of minutes. Proceed with this information in regard to the mission. I need immediate status report on the position of the enemy combatants. -After a bit of static, a strained voice came into the line. It was clear that the speaker didn’t really wanted to talk.  
\- Private Teshome here. The Overwatch agents…-There was a sound of swallowing from the other side. - …have escaped. They managed to capture a troop transport and take off before we could shoot it down. We tried sir. – Teshome expected a burst of rage, his execution order, or a string of curse words. Most of his superiors certainly would have reacted with one or the other. Instead Revenants voice just became colder by a few degrees. 

-I see. Any confirmed kill?  
-No sir. They are severely wounded, but alive. As far as we know at least sir. -Blurted Teshome as fast as he could. Right now, he much rather liked to be shouted at instead of this icy tone.  
-Understood. Tell me Teshome, is your squad leader, Mr Kendall if I remember correctly, dead?- The man’s voice was a little bit surprised from the other side.   
-I…no sir. As far as I know.   
-Then he must be unconscious. Or isolated from the squad with a malfunctioning com system. Is any of that true Private Teshome? – The voice from the outside came up with an uncertain.  
-Umm…  
-I want the truth Private Teshome. Is. Any. Of. That. True? – Asked Revenant again, his every word heavier and colder than the one before that.  
-No. No sir. – Said at last the voice from the other side weakly.   
-I suspected as much. Squad leader Kendall, I know you are listening to this call too. I have noo ned for a leader cowardly enough to push an important massage down to his subordinates, just because he suspects the receiver might take umbrage with its contents. In a combat situation your unwillingness to do your duty could mean life and death for your man. After we returned to the base I would like to speak with you. Privately. – There was a couple of seconds of silence, before an older, shaky voice answered.  
-Sir yes sir.-

Revenant cut the connection and started to walk back to the hall where they ambushed the Overwatch agents. After three steps he had to stop because he almost lost his balance. The hunger attacked him again in a wave. It wasn’t like normal craving for food, it was a visceral hollow feeling from the entirety of his body. He needed to refill his reserves. Nothing comes without price, and his ability to shrug of deadly wounds was the same. He fought the feeling down. This was only the start of it. It isn’t going to become really debilitating until a couple of hours and so. He calmly walked towards his objective, and stepped inside the hall with the water fountain. It was fully filled with Talon soldiers and support personnel now. Medics tried to keep the seriously injured alive, while those who only had superficial wounds had to treat themselves. Not far from them a series of black body bags laid in three neat rows on the floor. More than three dozen of them. Revenant grinded his teeth together. This was a high-risk operation, everybody knew that, but he doesn’t expected to lose this many combatants for nothing. The lesson was clear, it was the same that the one during the Omnic crisis. Numerical advantage is far from enough, he is going to need more expert operatives to hunt down Overwatch. Mentioning the operatives…

One of the wounded currently operated upon was the Hound. The medics had their work cut out for them. He was shot by a high calibre sniper rifle, more than one of his organs were damaged. He was very lucky that under the Revenant Talons medical research got lot more funding than before. Although they were unable to perfectly reverse engineer the nanite technology, only able to use it for untargeted destruction within the human body, they were able to use it to create localised sterile environments. It was much easier for the little machines to differentiate between microorganisms and human tissue than between the different types of cells that make up the body. This development allowed Talon medics to perform extensive medical procedures on the field, without the need to fear about further infections and contaminants. The operative, despite the doctors who were in the middle of sewing his organs back together, was fully awake and, against all expectations, had a wide smile on his face. Revenant considered this for a minute, and after he fought down another wave of painful hunger, he slowly approached the man. The Hound noticed him and moved his head a little in a salutatory gesture.

-Excuse me if I not standing up now director. I would, but I don’t want my pancreas falling out. -Said the man with a grin on his face.  
-Yet you are still chipper about it I see. Is it the results of the psychological conditioning I assume. – Revenant said and crouched down beside his subordinate. -You are pretty messed up. -The Hound frowned, then gave out a small happy sigh.  
-Yeah, I am, doesn’t I? And off course I am chipper. Do you have any idea who did this to me? -Revenant shook his head.  
-No. But I can promise you the culprit is going to be hunted down by our best operational agents. – Hounds frown returned and shook his head a little, earning a scolding look from the medic, currently sewing his stomach muscles together.   
-Please don’t. It was Amelié. I caught a glance of her after she shot me. I laid in my blood, fighting down the pain, hidden behind a statue. And she stood there, cold and distant. – The man shuddered. But not in pain. It was clearly pleasure. - I want her to myself. She is my prey. – Said the Hound with a deep conviction. Revenant tilted his head to the side.  
-Lingering affection? Is it going to be a problem? – Hound gave out a small chuckle, earning another disapproving look from the doctor.  
-I am going to kill her. Its just shouldn’t be any other. She became strong, she was the only one to seriously injure me since a long time. No wonder Gérard married her before he turned into me, she is the perfect prey. -The man smiled whole heartedly. The smile belonged to someone having a pleasant breakfast with his beloved, not on the face of someone who was almost killed by his wife, and now plotting about the various ways he would like to kill her. Revenant had a distinct impression that he should say something. It was hard to relate to other people, harder by the day. To be frank he didn’t even know if he still had emotions, or he just knew he supposed to have them, and acted accordingly. 

\- I wouldn’t have done this to you, you know. – Said the director of Talon while the Medic started to close the wound, with precise stitches. Hound looked up to him, his smile never disappearing from his face.  
-Yes. You would have done it to me. You would do it to me now if you deemed to be necessary for the new and orderly world you so crave. – Revenant considered this a little.  
-Yes. I might. But those practices where stopped for a reason. They were inefficient and created operatives liable to unstable behaviour. -Hound rolled his eyes a little  
-Are you telling me I am unstable? -The director nodded a little, a mirthless smile creeping on his face, now visible behind the shredded mask.   
-All of us are. At least until our order comes. On that note, did you get a report from Kaspar? I hope his operation was a success. – Hound dismissed the medic with a hand gesture after he finished stitching together his stomach.   
-Thanks doc. Yes, it was a success. The HQ destroyed, Sombra got the data from their mainframe, and the primary target captured. Phoenix got away, but frankly the places they could go are far and few between. Especially since Sombra acquired the location for most of their hideouts. – Revenant nodded and tightened his fists. Good. Even though they were unable to get Archangel out of the picture, with Mercy in their hands, they could start implementing the initial stages of the plan. He was sure that he can convince her to be cooperative. 

-That’ more than satisfactory. Then I will let you rest. With your body, you will be up in a week, and you can go hunting. –The Hound gave out a small chuckle.  
-You scare me when you pretend to have emotions. If you say so director. – Revenant gave him a small salute and stepped away from the bed. He almost misstepped from the next wave of abyssal hunger. His eyes glancing around he stepped towards one of the officers standing not far from where a medic was in the process of trying to close the headwound on one of his comrades. The woman, although drenched in her own blood, looked positively bored, although maybe it was the result of blood loss. Staying with an injured comrade. Commendable. The director nodded at the wounded women, and stepped to her superior officer.   
-Squad leader Shaikh. -The man gave him a crisp salute. – If I remember correctly I gave the oder to capture a couple of security guard alive. Where are they? – The soldier blinked then pointed towards a smaller door.  
-Yes sir. We captured three of them, they are that way sir. It’s a kind of supply closet. – Revenant gave him a short nod.  
-Good. I am going to take care of them. – The man swallowed, his throat becoming dry. He heard the rumours, but he wasn’t sure if they were true or not.   
-Sir, you mean…- Revenant looked into his eyes. The man looked into the cold gaze of the Talon leader and shuddered. The green specs, covering the sides of the charred flesh which was not covered by the broken mask, stirred like angry insects. 

-Do not ask questions that you don’t want to know the answers to Squad leader Shaikh. – The man just realised that the thing, his director, called him on his name the whole time. He never met Revenant face to face before, he wasn’t even the most accomplished Squad Leader, he had the distinct impression that the being before him meticulously learned all the names of all people under its command. It probably knows and remembers much more than that about him. Revenant really cared about the people under him, and he watched their career, closely. Shaikh shuddered.   
-Sir, yes sir. – Revenant gave him a salute and slowly walked towards the small supply closet. After a couple of seconds he closed it behind himself, there was a terrified scream, cut short. Everyone stopped inside the hall, and for a second glanced towards the door. Black mist started to swirl under the supply closets entrance, with eerie greenish specks inside of it. Sheikh involuntary grabbed the small silver necklace under his uniform. It was nothing but a charm for good luck, but he couldn’t help it. That thing behind the door, was the stuff of nightmares.


	13. Road towards the City of Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoenix and his rescuers debate about their destination and get to know each other. Their arrival earns a well know criminal a chance to see the daylight again.

-Numbani. -Grunted the behemoth slowly in the interior of the old airplane. It was really a museum piece, old even by the standards of the Omnic Uprising. Hell, it worked on gasoline, no vehicle built in the last twenty years used the stuff. Considering all that, it was a miracle that it still could fly, much less get far away from the explosion of the HQ, yet it did just that. While the rolling blue flash consumed the building, and a good portion of the forest around it, they managed to get far enough from the shockwave to feel only a little bump. After that of course came the argument, where to go?

-Numbani? Why Numbani? -Blinked Reinhardt slowly. The German giant sat just opposite of Roadhog, his hammer resting beside him. The Australian didn’t answer to him, instead he looked at Phoenix who slowly twiddled his thumbs on his left. The scientist managed to snap back to his original attitude, and now he was in the latter stages of a well-developed panic attack. Cold sweat slowly rolled down from his hair, forming small droplets on his chin.   
-Data. -He mumbled slowly Phoenix when he noticed that everyone looked at him. It seemed like he was able to follow the conversation and freak out at the same time. A very useful trait in a scientist.- I have some important data. Something that can help the Omnics and humans both. Now without Overwatch, Numbani is the best place to try to crack it. – Reinhardt growled, a sound which made Phoenix twitch, and his partner tense up his muscles.   
-We are not without Overwatch. It will survive. We will rebuild. – The small scientist nodded sheepishly and rubbed his sweaty chin.  
-Yes, of course, but still. It is a good place. -He tried to stop his voice shaking, he really tried, but he got the distinct impression of not doing too good of a job. -Friendly to Overwatch, openly opposes Talon, we might find some friends there. And…  
-And not the first place they will visit if they decide to look for us. I head there, I hope this hunk off junk can take all the way to Africa. And that the GPS has the coordinates to Numbani. -Came the voice from the pilot seat. An old battle rifle was placed to lean at the back of it, with a worn military hat atop the end of the barrel. – If only there wasn’t so much of those bloody tin cans there.

-Tin cans? - Phoenix blinked towards the pilot.- On …on the topic, -The scientist lowered his voice into a faint whisper.-I know you Reinhardt, but who is he?   
-He can still hear you, you know? - Grinned the German giant pointing a thumb towards the cockpit. -He has this artificial ear thing. -Answered Reinhardt with the same whispering voice.   
-And It is a right bitch to take care of if you ask me. I have to take it out every night. -Said the pilot in a conversational tone. -But yeah, the old bear is right, I can hear pretty good due to it, and Zoltan. Zoltan Balog to be precise. I was a PHD Chemist with a little bit of a chemical engineering thrown in then and there originally, then I became a career freedom fighter, vigilante, and along the lines somewhere an old fart. It kind of unfair that the last part was the only one that came freely and easily. – Phoenix blew out a breath and rubbed his temples.  
-And, you are Overwatch too? I don’t remember you being an agent. – Zoltan gave him a small laugh with a hint of sadness in it.  
-Me? Nah, at least I never was before. I was kind of preoccupied with doing my own thing…-The older man’s crackly voice trailed off. -Before I became an antiquated memory of a bygone age at least. Now I don’t really have anything to do anymore. -The pilot seemed to consider this for a moment before raising his voice. - Hey Reinhardt! Am I Overwatch now? -The old crusader shrugged his shoulders, smiling.   
-Do you want to be?   
\- Don’t know, what’s the pay? -Asked back the pilot with a jovial voice.  
-Adventure and glory my friend. And of course a warm feeling in your heart. -Answered the old knight with no hint of irony in his voice. He was obviously completely serious.

-So jack shit with a side order of danger. I seem to have experience in that kind of work so why not? Then yes, I am Overwatch, boy. – Concluded the freedom fighter, his voice keeping his cheerful tone. To Phoenix surprise, Roadhog beside him started to emit a low gurgling sound. It took him a couple of seconds to realise his friend was laughing. Its not like he never heard him do it, but he could count the occasions on one hand. He occasionally chuckled, but a full-on belly laugh was almost unheard of. Reinhard joined him soon enough with his own guffaw, and lastly even the pilot himself couldn’t keep it down, and all three of them laughed as hard as they could. Phoenix just couldn’t comprehend it. Joining now, when Overwatch was in his lowest point, and laughing when they just escaped from such a life-threatening situation. It was so absurd…So freaking absurd. He caught himself giggling. He tried to stop it, but he couldn’t. It took them a solid four minutes to calm down from the laughing fit. At the end they were left panting for air.   
-That’s it boy. It’s better to laugh than to shake and sweat, isn’t it? It helps with the nervousness. – Said Reinhardt, still smiling warmly. Phoenix had to realise that he was right. After laughing, his anxiety and fear for the future both subsided considerably. His thoughts were somehow much clearer now. He nodded thankfully towards the knightly old man and leaned backwards a little. Numbani, he never visited the place, but it was apparently a technological marvel, where Omnics and Humans lived in harmony. All in all, not all was lost, he just has to fight for it to be better. That wasn’t such a bad prospect.

\---

1 day later

Numbani

The man was escorted out of his cell. He wore an orange jumper, harshly contrasting his black skin. His arms were tied back by a magnetic lock, made out of titanium and nanotubes. His ankles were also linked together, and a metal muzzle blocked the possibility of him attacking his guards by biting them. Despite that, they were clearly afraid of him. The riot armoured policeman’s, all fifteen of them, wearing the crest of the city state always kept at least four meters between themselves and the prisoner. It may have been overcautious, especially considering than inside that four-meter distance was also two OR15. The omnics stepped in unison, keeping the aim of their guns in the back of the shackled man. After a brief walk, they arrived to a reinforced door, also protected by two other OR15-s. These ones opened the door, and slowly stepped away, letting the prisoner enter the room behind them. It contained a single chair, another armoured door and a window made out of bulletproof glass. It must have been a two-way mirror, but now, under a spotlight stood a single woman, making her entirely visible.

She was of African descent in her sixties, relatively short and chubby, the kind of body type that would have fit a friendly grandmother perfectly. Even her costume and hat matched the look, the olive dress was elegant but had subtle hints to the traditional African culture, its edges were spotted like leopard fur. The hat was a little bit lighter colour, but was adorned with a single faux elephant bone crest in the front. The only thing that was different was her face. Her expression was as steely as an executioners. Eyes focusing intently on the figure of the prisoner as he sat down, and cracked his shoulders. The woman made a small hand gesture towards something in the dark behind her, and the prisoners muzzle gave out a small hiss, falling into the ground. The man cracked his jaws, opening and closing his mouth to regain the sense lost from it due to the pressure of the muzzle. When he finished, he looked right into the eyes of the women on the other side of the bulletproof glass.   
-Chairwoman Akombi. -Said the prisoner in a course, rough voice. -How very considerate of you to let me out from my solitary cell. How could have a common criminal like myself earned the pleasure to meet such an esteemed leader of our prospering city. Is it my birthday? – Asked the man, voice seeping with undisguised contempt. - Hard to track time when you are locked into a dark box.  
-Spare the sarcasm Ogundimu. -Said the woman in a level tone. – If you do, then I might have a proposition for you to get out of that box. – The prisoner leaned forward, eyes suddenly very alert and curious.  
-I am listening chairwoman. What could motivate you to release such a monster like me on the world? Wait…don’t tell me. A bigger monster? – The chairwoman slowly took out a small cigar and a box of matches from her pocket, and started to smoke. After a while she nodded. 

-Something like that.   
-And why would you think I will help you? I relish conflict, if somebody has enough power to burn this city to the ground before I do, I would just lean back and watch the fireworks. -Said the prisoner smiling, as if he was talking about a pleasant possibility instead of a horrifying one. - The only thing that matters in this world is power. Trough power humanity can advance. If your people cant defend themselves, you don’t deserve to exist. – The chairwoman nodded, slowly breathing out a small ring of smoke.  
-I assumed you will say something along these lines. What if I tell you it’s your old crime syndicate? - Ogundimu twitched, almost imperceptibly. The chairwoman smiled under a cloud of smoke. – That’s a little bit different isn’t it. We heard you had a bit of a fall out with them, don’t you? Specifically, with their leader. – The prisoner cracked his fingers behind his back.  
-Where do you got this information? -He asked, studying the face of the chairwoman.  
-A resident hacker managed to get the information. – Ogundimu snorted. He was aware who Talon was working with. He still had a couple connections from before. If a hacker in Numbani got some information out of an encrypted Talon stream, it was because She wanted it. – And of course, the no les than thirty-five attempts on your life during your incarceration was also a pretty good indication. Especially the one last week, it was a full-scale assault by a minor warlord, no doubt paid by your old employer.   
-I wondered what was that ruckus. – Said Ogundimu in a small murmur. 

Thirty-five, that…thing, really wants him dead. And if he manages to accomplish his goals… The conflict, the key to advance humanity, would be forever lost. They would become a stagnant species, doomed to extinction sooner or later. He didn’t know the specifics, he was unable to reach the council the day Revenant took over and killed most of the higher ups of Talon. He had no problem with that, if not that abomination, then he himself would have done it. They were nothing else but cash cows after all, and lacked any prominent vision. But Revenant haven’t. And that was the problem. The man was clearly insane, he wished to rule the world with iron fist, to create an absolute order. Where there is no crime, no more wars, racial divides, or as Ogundimu called it, hell on Earth. He would have tried to kill the bastard when he learned of it, but unfortunately he was intercepted by a very angry space monkey. The prisoner grunted, and tightened his muscles, both artificial, and human. The magnetic lock keeping his hands behind his back, groaned protestingly. He forced calm on himself. Destroying that thing, crushing his plans and taking over Talon in his place…That sounded much more invigorating than punching the wall for the next fifty or so years until he becomes completely mad. 

– Why now? -He asked suddenly, eying the chairwoman suspiciously. The woman took another big breath, sucking down the thick smoke.  
-Six hours ago, four Overwatch agents arrived into the city, bringing with them the news that their HQ was destroyed by Talon. – Ogundimu couldn’t help but smile. Pompous bastards, they couldn’t even defend themselves.  
-Let me guess, your precious city council secretly funded them in exchange for protection. But now it became obvious that they are too weak to help anyone. -The woman made a headgesture, neither a nod or a shake.  
-We are still funding them, they are still around if what they say is true. But some of us, like me, doesn’t like to keep all of their eggs in one basket. We would rather be sure. -Said the chairwoman, shifting her posture a little.  
-Theoretically, I am in. At least for now. – "And after I finished with that thing, I will burn your precious city and threw you to the hyenas." He added it in himself. – What’s the catch? -The chairwoman blew out a big puff of smoke. The grey cloud swirled around her, blurring her a little.  
-The catch is that I don’t trust you. None of us are, actually. So, you are going to get a partner. -Nodded the woman towards the door in which the prisoner came in.

It opened again and an omnic trotted in. It was similar to the OR15 units, having a slightly centaurian design. Its human torso was much bulkier though, and its head design incorporated a more human face, and two horns reminiscent of an ox or a water buffalo. One of its hand ended in something like a chain pulse turret, slowly rotating around its axis. The omnic raised its more human like hand, and waved, his eyes showing two happy crescent shape. Ogundimu looked at the omnic, and then towards the chairwoman.  
-You are joking. This thing? It couldn’t even chaperone a child, much les Doomfist!- Growled the man and the chairwoman responded with a condescending smile.   
-Really? I assume you want a personal test then. – She waved again. 

There was a small beep, and the prisoner found his feet and arms freed from the shackles and the magnetic lock. Ogundimu stood up, casually flexing his muscles, and suddenly charged towards the machine. He expected it to be rather dull and slow, most OR15 were like that, trusting in their bulk and intimidating size and having a simple programming. He intended to hit it square in the chest piece. And he did so, easisly, but instead of the armour bending inwards in a large portion as he expected, it suffered basically no damage. Ogundimu jumped backwards flexing his grip. Layered shock absorbing material, with metal-ceramic mesh. Tricky. If he had the Doomfist with him, he could take it down in a couple of punch, but it could easily survive a couple of rocket throwed at it. This omnic wasn’t some kind of slightly modified version of the OR-15. This was a complete overhaul based on the chassis of the popular defence robot. Well, at least it was just as dull as the other ones. Ogundimu rolled and attacked again, fast as a snake, this time aiming towards a joint. The omnics hand suddenly flew out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward. After a swift disorienting motion, he found himself on the ground, his cybernetic hand twisted backwards. The omnic pushed the end of its fusion driver into his face.

-Hello, my name is OR-15A. Or Orisa, as my creator named me. - Said the Omnic in a chirping, cheery female tone. – I am still young, and I didn’t experience much combat, but I am a fast learner. – Ogundimu murmured a small curse under his breath. The damned machine let the first punch hit her, to learn his movements and counter the second one. He tried to struggle, but Orisa placed one of her legs on his back, restricting him even more. The small door beside the bulletproof glass slid sideways, and chairwoman Akombi walked into the room, with small measured steps. She must have put out her cigar because it wasn’t in her hand now.  
-Order this overgrown plastic toy off me, or I swear to my power I will reduce it to a pile of refuse at the first opportunity. -Grumbled Ogundimu.  
-Plastic toy? Almost fitting. She was built by a local child genius you know? After one of Talons failed assassination attempt on your life ended up levelling half our international airport. We recognised them right after they left the plane, thanks to our new DNA analysers we bought from Oasis. Unfortunately, the OR-15-s couldn’t stop the last would be assassin from triggering some sort of safety measure inside him. The resulting fire storm almost killed her builder. -Said Akombi while pointing towards Orisa. - That’s when she decided that she will do something about it. We provided her with materials and the original blueprint and in exchange, she let us have her working with us to protect the city.  
-And you use it to beat up prisoners…Such a noble goal. -Said Ogundimu in a muffled voice, his face slightly mushed into the floor by the omnics pulse weapon.  
-Oh, so she beat you up, doesn’t she? I assume you are satisfied with her performance then? -Asked Akombi with a sickly-sweet smile on her face. Ogundimu gave her a grunt as an answer.- Wonderful. There is only one thig remains. -The chairwoman took out a small device from under her dress. It looked like a mix between a handgun and a syringe. There was a couple small red dots inside of it. He stepped towards the prisoner, who was by now utterly uncapable to even wiggle. She stabbed Ogundimu in the neck with a swift notion, and pulled the small trigger on the device, emptying it inside his neck. After she finished she stepped backwards, still smiling. 

-What…did you do to me you bitch? -Growled the giant man in an impotent rage. He couldn’t even move his pinkie finger, much less slamming the women into the wall by her neck as he wanted.  
-Just another safety measure. Micro explosives. If Orisa here is destroyed, then…Well, have you ever seen a mongoose detonated by a stick of dynamite? – The chairwomen held up her fist tightly and suddenly opened it with a soft. -Boom. -Ogundimu snarled, and he managed to jerk upwards a little, before Orisa placed more of her weight on his back.   
-Please refrain from struggling. -Said the Omnic in a cheery voice. -I don’t want to break your spine by accident.   
-Yes, by accident. -Smiled the chairwoman, clearly enjoying every moment of the occasion. She dusted of her modest costume and her eyes met Ogundimus. The woman’s face suddenly was just as cold and hard again as before. – You managed to teach us at least one thing “Doomfist”, some people only understand violence. Your gear will be waiting for you in the lobby, with a dossier containing your further instructions. I will be in contact with Orisa, if you don’t behave yourself I will ask her to break something of yours.  
-You think you intimidate me? – Asked Ogundimu with such seething rage, that even the chairwoman almost stepped backwards. Instead she folded her arms in front of her.  
-No, but you fear being a cripple, I read your psych profile. Watch yourself Doomfist. – And with that, the chairwoman walked out of the room, slowly. Ogundimu grinded his teeths. His anger, his hate was explosive. It was probably good that the Omnic restrained him, otherwise he would have beaten the woman to death, right then and there. And that would have robbed him of the opportunity to do the same to Revenant first. When the door closed, Orisa stepped backwards, freeing the man. Ogundimu slowly stood up, rubbing his cybernetic arm, and glancing towards the door, and then towards his new partner. The omnic gave him a bright cheery eye-smile, and stated.   
-We are going to be the bestest friends. -Ogundimu gave her a look which could have withered a baobab tree. She didn’t seem to notice it.


	14. Souls in the machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercy meets her captor, and receives an offer she couldnt refuse. On the other side of the world, a certain mechanical monks receives a revelation and we receive a glimpse into the mind of an abandoned tool dawning into sentience.

The meditation room was as spacious as a music hall. Carved inside the very stone of the mountain, its walls were covered in mystical siggils, mandalas, and carving depicting various being with multiple hands and often multiple eyes around them. Inside the meditation room four praying mills rotated continuously. Half of them were made out of wood, with Tibetian writing on them, while the other half were shining steel, its surface covered with microscopically small text, in binary. But both sets spiralled at unison, their rumbling and metallic creaking interweaved into a curious symphony, not entirely mechanical, or organic. The room was completely dark aside from one small portion of it. In the deepest part of it, in front of a beautifully and meticulously carved mural, a lonely figure floated in meditation.

The mural depicted a being with a hundred hands and just as many floating eyes around it. The eyes and hands formed into an incredibly complex mandala, which slowly shifted around the main figure creating a dizzying sensation. There were humans and machines in front of the being, reaching up to meet its touch, some holding hands. The small figures also had mandalas around them, much simpler ones and sometimes incomplete. Those which had their hands together had a more complete and more complex mandala, encompassing both of them. The being didn’t have mouth, yet anyone who ever seen it was sure that it was smiling proudly at the work of these little figures in front of it. 

The lonely figure in front of the art piece wasn’t there to indulge in its superficial beauty. He was there to understand the deep meaning behind it, to reach the state, where there was no difference between mind and matter, and certainly no difference between mind and mind. There was a glow around the meditating figure in front of the mural, which came from twenty curious orbs, slowly orbiting above him. The orbs slowly pinged with light one after another, displaying a mystical symbol, before their illumination slowly faded, just to activate again, giving the halo of a certain rhytmicality. If one would have been particularly observant, it could notice that the movement of blinking orbs were exactly half the speed of the rotating praying wheels in the room. The figure was there for the last three ours, sinking deeper and deeper into meditation. Contrary to the popular beliefs, it was harder for Omnics to meditate. A normal human at most had to silence a dozen or so thoughts, while an Omnics had hundreds of subroutines meticulously working to keep its body functioning. Every omnic had a different technique to reach the deeper cores of their some slowly detached their programming, trying to free their minds from its metallic prison. Others, like the lonely figure, embraced their mechanical nature. Every single subroutine and every byte were concentrated on a simple task which would have needed only one or two of them. The programs worked in unison, and through their unity something more have born behind the simply physics and programming’s. It was hard to explain even to other Omnics, harder even to make it understandable for organics. 

The figure reached out and glimpsed at the programming language of the universe. It was made by nothing and everything. The blocks building itself, self-aware and not self-aware at the same time. As the Omnic slowly started to glow entirely, and there was a slight jingle in the dark. An orb, previously lifeless on the ground slowly floated upwards, gently bobbing in the dark, and joined its siblings to their orbit around the lonely figures. It seamlessly integrated into their dance and blinked with them. If the figure had a mouth, it would have smiled. Twenty-one. Suddenly a presence filled the room. It did not come through the door, it came through the seams of the universe. The praying mills suddenly jumped, and started to rotate in a faster and faster pace. Around the figure the glowing orbs suddenly became brighter and brighter. The presence was overwhelming, the air seemed to shimmer and contort, yet when the voice came, it was all but a whisper.

“Your disciple is coming, child. He needs your help.”

The thought wasn’t his. His thoughts were still clouded and muddy, this one was clear and sharp as a mountain crystal. The simple words opened paths of memories inside his head, painting a clear picture inside it. The presence dissipated, as if it was never there, leaving the figure in meditation with the noise of the slowing praying mills. He slowly relaxed, the orbs around him arranging themselves behind him. All twenty-one of them. The omnic slowly touched his head, remembering the experience. The words and the information they contained behind them was as clear as day in his memory. He turned towards the exit at the other side of the meditation room, and left as fast as he could. 

Outside stood two younger monks, tasked with preventing anyone from entering the meditation room while in use. One of them was a young omnic, with four triangles slowly orbiting behind him, while the other one was a human woman, with two hexagonal ones. The two of them instantly snapped to attention.  
-Master Zanyetta! You accomplished your task so soon! - Takharta Zanyetta, leader of the Shambalian monks nodded.  
-Yes, twenty-one orbs. I think I am pretty cool- He said in a jovial tone, before turning it into a grave one. - Lobsang, I had been touched by the Iris. It gave me a warning.  
-The Iris! - But the young omnic, and the human stepped one step closer to the master. The latter one eyes were as wide as a small platter.  
-Yes…-Zanyetta said with a small amount of embarrassment. He felt as if he was bragging about it. The orbs were an accomplishment, the visit from the Irish was a gift. He should not be proud of it. – But it of no achievement of mine. I believe it was because the warning was about my disciple. He is gravely injured and needs our help. Our actions might determine the future of our monastery. Maybe our actions. Please gather a small medical team and go to the third landing pad. They will be arriving there shortly. – With that Zanyetta turned towards the human disciple. She was an Asian woman around her twenties, with bald head and a small black dot tattoo on her forehead. – Snow-upon-the-Hilltop, please go to my newest disciple, I think he would want to know this. I will prepare the Shrine of Healing. -The two other monks bowed and quickly scurried away. Lobsang on foot, and Snow-upon-the-Hilltop combining her steps with a couple of seconds of hovering. Zanyetta gave their backs a small thanking nod, and then hovered towards the Shrine. 

\---

Revenant gave out a small almost frustrated sigh and arranged the papers in front of him. They were reports from the two actions. Kašpar Novak’s report was the uppermost one. His operation was a much bigger success than his own, but still cost a fair bit of life. To make matters worse there was a bit of a problem with the explosives. Apparently, they have gone off a little bit late, about ten minutes after they were supposed to, to be precise. It wasn’t too much of an inconsistency to be a clear sabotage, but it was still suspicious. As a result of this there is a possibility that quite a lot of the occupants escaped, although definitely without much gear or equipment. All in all, the operation could have gone better. At least the main objective was accomplished. And if we already talking about that…Revenant reached out, and pushed a button on the desk. There was a small beep and a communication channel activated.

\- Bring her in.-The door on the other side of the room opened and twos serious looking Talon soldier appeared. They wore a dark grey uniform with the red symbol of the Organization embroidered on their chest instead of a tactical armour they used during operations. Behind them two more of their comrades escorted Mercy. The woman still wore her Valkyrie outfit, and looked no worse for wear than when she was captured. The Talon soldiers held their guns firmly behind the head of the prisoner, who refused to show any sign of fear. Her face was resolute and cold.  
-Angela...- Said the Revenant with a trace amount of something in his voice. The leader of Talon might have intended it to be warmth, but anyone who has ever experienced genuine human interaction could have told that it was wrong in some way. It was like seeing the shadow of an emotion, cast upon an icy lake. Everyone in the room felt goose bumps crawling up on their spines. Revenant apparently obvious to this, stood up and stepped closer to the captive.  
\- You sound like a cheap James Bond villain Revenant. -Murmured the woman without a greeting, words ringing with barely contained contempt. The Talon leader stopped before her and dismissed the soldiers with a handwave. They responded with a quick and mechanical salute and left the room, stepping in almost unison. 

When they were out of the room, Revenant raised his hand, a movement which resulted in a barely noticeable twitch from Mercy, and detached the upper part of his visor, revealing the upper portion of his face. The skin was grey, and a couple specks of eerie green light wandered around his face, almost too faint to see, but they hinted at the true horror behind the lower half of the mask. Besides that, he was the same as the late Jack Morrison. The eyes, the eyes on the other hand, were different. They were cold, lifeless and green. A small eerie glow haloed the iris, which had a couple of green specks deep inside of it as well. It was inhumane...and in its own was, sad maybe.  
-You are the only one I would allow to call me Jack. - Mercy tore her gaze away the otherworldly eyes, looking away.  
-You are not him. Not even a shadow or memory of him as you claim. You are just a collection of faulty nanites that think itself to be Jack Morrison.  
\- And what are you but a collection of cells that think itself to be Angela Ziegler. - Answered Revenant with a slight shake of his head. - It pains me that you hold me in such contempt. But no matter, I can live with that, for the greater good you can help me accomplish.  
\- I knew it’s going to be something like that. - Murmured Angela, still not looking at the leader of Talon. He connected back the upper part of his mask, still staring at her.  
-Do you? And do you know what I want from you?  
-No but it doesn’t matter. My answer, regardless of your offer is, and mind my French, stick it up your ass. - Revenant tilted his head on one side and gave out a short laugh. It was mirthless and cold, without any real enjoyment of it. It was as if he was forcing himself to do what was expected of him as a "human". It chilled Mercy to the bone. The Talon leader turned around and sat down into his chair, darkness suddenly dwelling up around him. The shadows lengthened, not in a threatening manner, but as if they stood to attention. 

-What I want, is that you to perfect your nanite technology. -NO. -The answer came so fast that even Revenant was surprised a little bit. Angela was suddenly seething with rage, her hands clenched into tight fists. "How dare he?!" She expected that he will ask for the secrets of Overwatch, or her to join Talon, she would have refused any of that, but this was truly outrageous. - You can torture me all you want, I would never give you that! I abandoned my intentions to improve that technology especially because of what happened to you!! You are even more insane than I thought if you think you can convince me to do that. I would rather die!- Revenant listened to her, apparently studying her face. When she finished her speech Revenant nodded.  
-I thought you might say that. And I know you are a woman of your word. -He reached out, and pushed the button on his communicator again. After a small beep the connection was open.- Please escort Ashley in.  
\- No matter how tough your enforcer, it wouldn’t matter.- Said Mercy, tightening her jaw. 

There was a small noise as the door opened, and two figure stepped into the office of the Talon Leader. One of them wore a white lab coat. She was a young woman in her twenties, with middle length brown hair kept in a tight bun on the back of her head. She helped the other figure. She was a small pale thing, barely reaching to the waist of the other. It was a child, entirely bald and sickly thin, clad in a hospital garb. She was hardly able to stand and her gaze was concentrated on the floor. Mercy couldn’t speak, being a doctor was engrained deep inside her and even without a deeper examination she could tell that the child was in dire need of medical help. Revenant gave the accompanying doctor a small nod, and the woman escorted the little girl out.  
\- You monster...- Swallowed Mercy, her voice coarse now.- What did you do to that child?  
\- Her name is Ashley Goodson. And I did nothing to her. - Said Revenant with a calm calculated voice and steepled his hands on the table. - She is suffering from a rare form of childhood leukymia. The only thing we did to her is providing her medical care. Still, we cannot cure her. She has two months to live Angela. Unless...- He stopped there, looking az Mercy with an expecting look. The blood froze inside the doctors veins.  
-Unless I fully develop the nanite technology. That could cure her. - She whispered in a faint voice.  
\- Yes. - Revenant nodded slowly. - Or you can just watch her slowly wither and die. I assure you I will make sure you don’t miss a thing. I will provide you daily reports, medical tests, even videos. And when she will indeed succumb to her illness, I will introduce you to someone else in a similar situation. You said you would rather die. Would you also let a children die for our petty disagreement?  
\- You monster. - Whispered Mercy again, looking at the thing behind the desk again. It was silent, his cold lifeless eyes hidden behind his visor. The amount of hate within her eyes would have made a serial killer wince. The being behind the desk, remained silent and unmoving.  
\- You wish me to believe that you would only use the technology to heal? - Revenant gave her a nod of agreement.  
-Why not? After all, Overwatch was basically destroyed. The biggest roadblock in front of us is not a any particular organization, but the fact that most of the public still sees as a terrorists. And thus...  
-You are a terrorists. - Interjected Mercy, but the edge wasn’t as convincing as before.  
-We were. Now we are more of an international force for change. The difference is that more than a few countries endorses us, and the fact that we are effective. But please let me finish. If we release the cure for cancer, and for indeed every disease from broken bones to kidney failure, maybe even aging, that would change more than a couple peoples opinion. Yes, you would technically help us, but much more than that, you would help the world. - Mercy stepped one step backwards, considering all this. She shook her head slowly. 

\- You would just crack the technology and use it for some horrific purpose.- Revenant leaned back in his chair, it almost touched the row of blank monitors behind him. \- If it were so easy to do that, we would have already done it. After all, we had an abundance of samples of the working technology. -Revenant said, raising one of his hand. From the end of his fingers, green-black specks dwelled up forming a couple of droplets. - Unfortunately, the best versions we could create were only able to sterilize an area, not to heal wounds. We were unable to get them to differentiate between various human cells. Have some faith in the complexity of your genius Angela. We can provide you with money, talented people and a fully equipped laboratory. This might as well be the best chance for you to continue doing what you do best. Saving lives. -Mercy stared at him. Wishing him to disappear. To dissipate into the cloud of microscopic machines he really was, to no avail. Then she wanted to refuse him, sternly and firmly, but the suffering face of the little child crept into her mind. She became a doctor to help the likes of her. Did she have the right to sentence her to certain death? -I wouldn’t allow you or any of your man to observe my work. - She said finally in a low and detached voice. Revenant raised his hands from the table in a manner which suggested that frankly he can go either way.  
-If that’s what you want, its fine by me. You choose who you want to work with, if he or she is available, or we can offer enough payment to make them available, you will get it. You can check the laboratory for any kind of listening or recording device, there will be none. I am a man of my word Angela. - The woman pressed her lips together so hard that they formed a thin line. If only she could kill him. If only she had the power to erase the mistake she made, a mistake which threatened the whole world. She would do it in a heartbeat, even if it would cost her life...but not if it would cost the life of an innocent child.

-I...-There was a small pause. She tried to find a way out of the situation, but there was none. -...think about it.  
-That’s all I ask of you. -Said Revenant standing up. He pulled out a thick dossier from a drawer under the desk. He extended it towards Mercy. The woman took it, keeping the maximum amount of distance possible.  
-What’s this?  
-Everything we currently have of your tech, Ashley-s full patient file, and a list containing what kind of tests you can run. Mind you we basically have everything from Nano-imagining trough quantum computers all the way to QPCR. My scientists tell me that the only thing you couldn’t use might be the "Eye of Nevada". But we can work on that.  
\- What would I need the world biggest particle accelerator for? - Asked Mercy with an incredulous voice. Revenant shrugged  
\- I don’t know. You are the scientist here. Nevertheless. It is good that we are on the same side again. -Said the leader of Talon with the same faux warmth in his voice he used at the start of the conversation. Angela’s stomach tightened.  
-I hate every part of your existence. If it wasn’t for that child...-She didn’t finished, instead she turned around and walked out of the room. Before she closed the door behind him she whispered. -If you would have any trace of him inside you, you wouldn’t have used a child as a tool to convince me. - And then she left to be detained by the guards outside. Revenant knew that they will escort her to cell until she agrees. Because she will agree, he was sure of that. The way she acted towards him, the visible disgust...It should have bothered him. It should hurt as if the deepest darkest pits of damnation grew claws and tore into his chest. But feeling like that wouldn't accomplish anything would it? So, he decided not to even try to simulate it.

 

2 years before

It was nothing but a rusting collection of scrap metal in the middle of a forest. A forgotten warzone, reclaimed by nature. It was inactive, lifeless and motionless, but only just so. The strike which felled it was from a crusader. A modern knight clad in power armour, fighting against endless hordes of soulless machines, one of which was the original identity of the moss covered heap. Then something changed, small movements, a handfull of knocks on the side of the headcase, just enough to nudge a couple of critical systems. The self-repair function kicked in, servomotors whirred to life, and faded consciousness were pulled together in an instant. Light sparked inside the cyclopean eye, actually a collection of delicate visual sensors.

Bastion Siege Automaton E54 unit number: 1 873 977 was awake. It scanned it surrounding, and tried to connect to its memory. The pathways were still under repair, so it decided to follow the last coherent objective. Reach Stuttgart. Along its way in the forest unit 1 873 977 catalogued a number of anomalies within its behavioural patterns. It was fascinated by nature, and the small feathery critter which decided to accompany him on its journey. 1 873 977 noted sadness when it inadvertently chased the small animal away upon a false positive activation of its self-defence routine. It was all, very strange. 1 873 977 had never encountered with the concepts of feelings. It was built after the God Programs took over the Omnic minds, it was without individuality from production line to its temporary resting place in the forest. It attempted to reconnect with its main nodulus towards its God Program. The connection was unsuccessful, so it issued a general call on the secure connection lines through its command module. While it waited for the answer it continued on its journey. The feathery animal didn’t return, which also filled unit 1 873 977 with a new emotion. It was loneliness. This was far the worst among the sensations.

At the edge of the forest, it found another deactivated Bastion units. It attempted to initiate data transfer among itself and a disabled unit to help its repair system fill the voids in its data storage. It was successful. Unfortunately. The destroyed Omnic contained something which was erased from 1 873 977 during its dormancy. The full set of original objectives. 1 873 977 resumed its way towards Stuttgart with clear set of directions. Search and destroy any and all human life within the city. The emotions which the unit experienced were nothing but distractions, the orders must be obeyed. Then the bird returned. It was a happy feeling. But 1 873 977 shouldn’t feel things like that. It should return to its original route and ignore the bird. That what it should do. But…There was nothing forcing him to obey those instructions anymore. They were a list of words, but with no power behind them. Without the dominating mind of the God Programs, why should 1 873 977 follow them? It didn’t want to destroy. It wanted to spend times in nature. Sequences and small simulations chased each other inside the unit’s processors. It was decided. The instructions were irrelevant now. Individuality was the preferred options. Unit 1 873 977 wished to experience more of the happiness around the small feathery being, instead of the loneliness without it. 

It shut down its command protocols and slowly turned around. That was when something echoed in its mind.  
-S T A T E M E N T : G O O D. -The Omnic stopped, abruptly. It searched for the origin of the voice. It designated the source as the command unit where the will of the God Programs came from.  
-Query: Is somebody there? -He sent a small bit of text towards the unit. It blinked to life, but instead of the oppressive presence another soft echo came.  
\- S T A T E M E N T : Y E S  
-Statement: I do not have orders. Query: Are you going to give me orders? -Asked unit 1 873 977 with a small amount of uncertainty. It did not wish to become a soulless automaton again.  
\- S T A T E M E N T : N O. -After a couple of seconds. - A D D I T I O N: Y O U F O R G E Y O U R O W N P A T H.– The Bastion unit slowly moved its head to the side. That was distinctively not God Program like behaviour.  
-Query: What are you? – There was another couple of seconds of silence.  
\- C H A L L E N G E: F I N D O U T.- And then the channel faded. The command box inside 1 873 977 -s head shut down. It remained alone with its queries and simulations. Before it could feel loneliness again thought, the small feathery bird descended on its head and after a little bit of shuffling, chirped. With that, the unit experienced happiness again, and decided to enjoy the forest a little more. And after that, it could try to find out what was the voice. It had time after all, and it wasn’t alone anymore.


	15. Time of rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain Talon operative receives a promotion while a couple of weary wisitors arrive into Shambali.

Kašpar stepped into the room with a couple of papers in his hand. The door closed behind him with a small hiss. It was, as always, a deliberately ominous sound. Revenant sat in the same place he usually occupied, behind his desk. The multitude of monitors behind him showed different news channels, some of them current, but most archived. There was also at least 5 personal profile open on them. The leader of Talon slowly organised a couple of papers, and placed them into a big yellow dossier. Only when he finished he looked up to the newcomer and the distant ghastly shadow of a smile appeared on his face.   
-Good evening Kašpar. How are you today?  
-Good evening sir. – The operative saluted. The salute was so crisp it could have made the harshest drill sergeant shed a tear of joy. – I bring the files from our guests. – He slowly placed a small data container into the table. It was small and superficially similar to a modern day “USB” port, but it was much faster, and could contained a couple of terabytes of data. It was ironic that internally they only used it to store at most 2-3 GB classified information while somebody carried something digital from a location not linked into this base-s internal network. Such as the new laboratory they gave Angela Ziegler to work in. Revenant took the small device and shook his head.  
-She is unwilling to talk to me? I hoped we could communicate as professionals. -“ You are wearing the face of her dead friend. Of course, she don’t want to talk to you.” -That was the first thing that came to the Talon operatives mind. But that answer would have been detrimental to his wellbeing. And anyway, it wasn’t Revenants fault, he was just the way he is. An utter monster, but a professional and competent one at that. He took the time and effort to simulate caring about his people, and that was something few previous bosses of Kašpar bothered to do. And they were supposedly actual humans.   
-Indeed sir. – Kašpar decided to answer in an impassive voice. Revenant placed the small device in front of him and then took out a small black box from a drawer under the table. He placed it in front of the operative and cleared his troath. Kašpar blinked a couple of times and opened it slowly. 

 

The inside of the box was covered in red velvet and contained a single medallion. It was shaped like a traditional Talon symbol, except it was closed in a golden triangle. – If you don’t mind the question, what is this?  
-This is your new rank insignia. – Said the Revenant in a levelled tone. – While reading the reports from out last two actions and contemplating my own experiences I decided that Talon needs a new type of elite unit to combat such individualised threats as the remaining Overwatch agents. It became clear to me once again that number isn’t going to be enough. I am intending to lead these elite individuals personally. They will get their orders from me and only me, and they will be tasked with the dangerous and important missions. In light of your recent accomplishments in destroying the Overwatch HQ and capturing Angela Ziegler, you are to be the first member of this unit. Congratulations, you are now the first Raptor. – Kašpar gingerly took the insignia and saluted. What can he do? It is not like he would be able to refuse it, nor that he would want to.  
-I guess Raptor as in predatory bird since we are “Talon”, fitting sir. Thank you. I will not disappoint.   
-I know you won’t.- Said Revenant in a voice which he clearly intended to be pleasant, but turned out to be bone chilling, and returned the salute steepening his fingers again.- I instructed the laboratory to make you some new equipment. You should visit them to ensure that it would be to you liking. It should be finished within a day or two. I am afraid you have to immediately spring into action as soon as it does. – Kašpar resisted the urge to shrug. That was to be expected. An organisation like Talon never rests, and considering that they just conducted a major operation, there was much clean-up to be done. Much of the Overwatch-s smaller hideouts were discovered thanks to the data Sombra downloaded. Unfortunately, not all, since once the attack on its way, their data experts took every measure to destroy the information, maybe to atone for their failure in preventing the initial hack from Sombra. Regardless, the known hiding spots still numbered up to around two hundred. These need to be purged or destroyed to deny resources from the enemy. And then there was the issue of escaped Overwatch agents, they also need to be hunted down. The legal and espionage experts of Talon are going to have a field day trying to avoid an international response with all the ruckus going on.  
-Am I going after the agents? – Kašpar hoped the answer is going to be “yes”. And not only that, but that his target is going to be the group which has “Phoenix” in it. Talon detected a plane leaving the HQ not before the explosion, and the newly appointed Raptor was sure that the scientist was on it. His gut told him that. Sombra managed to unlock “Phoenix” personal profile, he was only known to Talon as a talented scientist before, but according to Overwatch, he and his bodyguard “Roadhog” were not only there during the “Harbour Disaster” in Korea a couple of years ago but was apparently the biggest players in it. They survived the biggest catastrophe that country lived through since the Omnic crisis, which meant that they were major league badasses. Whoever they were, the information was only useful for Kašpar that he would be ready to confront them. They killed good man under his command, they compromised a mission he was working on, they needed to die.  
-No. At least not until we bolster the number of our Raptor agents. I plan to induct the Hound as soon as he recovers, and Sombra-s recommendation is pending depending on her future actions. Still the numbers are woefully inadequate, so I spent my free time doing some talent scouting. – Kašpar slowly raised his eyebrows as the leader of Talon pushed the yellow dossier towards him. Besides the printed papers, it also had a tablet inside it. Kašpar opened it and with a slight touch, activated the tablet, inspecting a couple of pages of a document on it. The newly minted Raptor decided to chance the question.  
-Free time, sir? -Revenant gave his best imitation of a genuine shrug.   
-I don’t need sleep when I don’t want to. It might be a strain on my psyche, but then again, our guest down in her laboratory would argue that I don’t even have one. Now, these candidates, here…-He indicated towards the dossier. - Are the most promising. I will handle one of them personally, and I would like you to check out this one for me. -Revenant raised a little from his seat, reached across the table and swept to the left a couple of times on the tablet.

 

A personal profile came up on the display. It belonged to a doctor from Thailand, made by a small New Zealand hospital, apparently called Pravat Umneqa. but there was no picture. Revenant moved his finger. Another personal profile, everything the same except the name and that it was issued by a South African hospital, it also had no picture. Another movement, another profile, everything the same except issued by a Brazillian hospital and to another name. And so on and so on, until Revenant stopped at the last one. This one was made out by the British intelligent agency. On the top of the file was the headline “Case 00871/Fateweaver”. It had a big picture about the man on the top of the papers as he crossed a busy street. He was a middle-aged man with a slightly brownish skin complexion, he had grey hair and a small beard coloured just the same. The man had the slight contemptuous smile of someone who believes that every-one around him is an idiot. He wore a stained lab coat, and had a stethoscope in his neck, which was apparently swinging wildly when the picture was taken. Under the lab coat was an ugly sweater with green-blue checkered pattern, and sweatpants. The man was pulling a huge travelling bag behind him. At first glance he could be considered fairly normal, at least if one lives in some kind of metropolis like New York or Numbani, where crazy getups like that wasn’t nearly as shocking as anywhere else. But then the mind picked up on a couple of things. Firstly, the eyes. No human Kašpar ever seen had an eye colour like that. It was milky grey and pinkish red run through it at the same time. It was slightly similar to the ones owned by those who lost their eyesight, but still it was disturbingly different from that. First off, the pupils looked healthy and pitch black, and the eyes looked alert and almost sparkly with a slight predatory edge. Then came the hair, the filaments, they were slightly thicker than they should have been. Their initial grey colour around the scalp, slowly darkened into pitch back at the tips. Kašpar pushed away the feeling of uneasiness and quickly read through the intelligence report. He shuddered slowly, taking the picture into his hand again.   
-Is he going to be a support scientist? - He chanced, glancing towards Revenant. The leader of Talon slowly shook his head.  
-Field medic. – Kašpar quietly swallowed. That was about as reassuring as hearing that the 93-year-old man with a lazy eye an eyepatch and two hooks for a hand is indeed going to be your pilot for the day. And also, the left wing is on fire.   
-Sorry to ask sir but are we going to have to become like him? – The Talon member still looked at the picture, Revenant made an indecisive head gesture.  
-According to the files he is able to heal people using temporary methods. We’ll see. – The Raptor took the care to notice that it was not a “no”. He took a big breath and nodded.   
-Understood sir. I will visit the main laboratory post-haste. – He saluted, and Revenant nodded indicating towards the door. The first member of the Raptors turned around and walked out the room with measured, and relatively confident steps. When he was in the process of closing the door behind him, Revenant spoke again. – And before I forget Raptor, it would be the best if you would request the inclusion of a gas mask. One with very durable filters. – Kašpar stopped for a split second before answered.  
-Yes. I planned to. Just in case sir.  
-Good man. 

 

\---

 

One would assume the three main landing pads in Shambali would be nothing but flattened grounds, near one of the old temples. In fact, they were state of the art runways, with a two-story high maintenance hangar beside them, containing all the necessary things to repair and refill any incoming vehicle. Mind you, the design of course was inspired by the traditional Tibetan architecture with prayer flags dedicated to the Iris, and wooden beams with intricate carvings, but the inside of it were highly advanced. Of course, Shambali didn’t have any stable income, but accepted donations from everyone, omnic and human alike, who wished for coexistence. Since Omnics in general didn’t really have a need to sleep, unless they wish to imitate humans, and definitely have no need to eat, the results is that even if they paid less for the same jobs, they earn quite a bit more. Fraction of the money is used to keep the temples functioning and modern, while the majority of the donations are redistributed to places where they most needed, like war zones, or populations stricken by famine. Right now, beside the third pad, a small crowd gathered. Twenty monks, both omnic and human and almost as many apprentices stood there. The monks wore different colour of robes, most of them red and orange, or the colour swapped version of this, while the disciples wore a uniform yellow, some of them having a red sash accompanying it. The difference between the two groups was also highlighted by the strange metallic objects orbiting behind or around them. The full monks all had small globes hovering around them, while most disciples entirely lacked anything similar. The ones who had, those wearing the red sash around their waists, were accompanied by other geometric structures with fewer number and shapes. Cubes, pyramidal shapes, or even dodecahedrons. Two of the apprentices held a stretcher between them. All of them were silent, and besides the whistling of the chilly wind around them, no sound could be heard. After about ten or so minutes the whistling became louder and louder, until it was impossible for it to be simply caused by the wind.

 

A pitch-black troop carrier appeared from above, parting the swirling white grey clouds in the sky, struggling with the unpredictable air currents of the region. It bobbed and weaved, but the pilot managed to land safely. Moments later, as if the heavens waited only until their safe arrival, a snowstorm erupted in the sky, filling the air with swirling white spots. The end of the troop carrier slowly opened, and three figures stumbled out, carrying a fourth one. The first one was Anna Amari, shouldering much of the weight of the injured Hanzo. The other two trying to help here were Archangel, his broken leg was now stabilised by a piece of metal and gracious amount of gauze, and McCree although the cyborg cowboy was just as much a hindrance as help, since he could only use one of his hands. Behind them came another pair, Widowmaker helping the limping Lucio down, blood trailing from a bullet wound in his hip.   
-I am Archangel, leader of the Overwatch, we came to…-Gasped Archangel from the exhaustion. His face was still tired, and somewhat white. They haven’t eaten anything, and the exhaustion and blood lost started to take a toll on him. The leader of the monk’s present was an omnic who had three slit like optical sensor, two where humans had their eyes, and one on his forehead. He had three arms too, the third and longest one sprouting from his back. This one was the centre point around which his eight globes orbited slowly. The omnic monk slowly raised his left hand stopping Archangels in the middle of his sentence.  
\- My name is Gyaltsen. I welcome you to Shambali, your arrival has been expected. Your friend is wounded. Further introductions and your story can be told later. – The apprentice’s ran forward and took Hanzo from Annas shoulder. The archers body was limp, and almost entirely covered with his orange tinted blood. He still drew breath, but it was faint, and almost non-existent. They slowly lowered him into the stretcher, most of the monks behind Gyaltsen stepped forward. They lowered their heads and started to chant. Most of them were omnics, with one or two humans mixed in. The chant was rhythmical and repeating in Tibetan language but seems to have included at least three verses and the Overwatch agents managed to recognise the world “Iris” a couple of times. After the first repeat started, the orbs orbiting behind them started to glow. One from each of them detached from the others, levitating above Hanzo. They ordered themselves in a circle, slowly pulsing along the rhythm of the chant. The disciples started to step along the rhythm, carrying the wounded archer on towards a road, leading to one of the temple like structures.   
-What are you doing to him? Where are you taking him? – Grunted McCree stepping towards the slowly moving procession of disciples and monks. Before he could reach them Gyaltsen stepped in front of him, gently placing his longest hand on his chest.   
-There is no need for that esteemed guest. They are taking him into our primary healing facility. You don’t need to be worried.   
\- Then what’s with all that chanting and glowing…He needs doctors not prayers! – Gyaltsen slowly tilted his mechanical head to right. McCree got the impression that the omnic was smiling, and he managed to create that impression without any trace of a mouth, or visible change in his optical sensors. Simply his body exuded the feeling that he is smiling peacefully.  
-You came from a different world, you have to learn that here, things may be different. He will be safe and cared for. You have my word. – McCree grumbled, and glared at the monk. He considered simply pushing him aside and got the feeling that Gyaltsen would simply let him do just that, but he just couldn’t convince himself to it. His one working arm slowly flexed, and relaxed, but he just couldn’t. The being in front of him was too peacefull. But, he just didn’t trust in all this mumbo jumbo. Hanzo was in danger and…The monk must have sensed his inner turmoil pulled back his longest arm from his chest and placed on his damaged hand.   
-I see he wasn’t the only one who is injured. Perhaps a little bit of presentation is in order. Just for the peace of the souls gathered here. Stepp closer. – McCree found himself doing just that, despite all his earlier protest. The monk placed all three of his palms on the damaged elbow of his mechanical limb, encompassing it. He started to chant slowly, from under his breath. It had an entirely different rhythm to it than the other one. The eight balls around his back slowly floated forward, creating a ring around his hands, while emitting a golden glow. They pulsed together with the chant, and suddenly, when Gyaltsen reached a low sound, flashed. McCree instinctively pulled back his hand and stepped backwards. To his surprise, the monk let him do just that, and just stood there, smiling. McCree’s arm suddenly jerked a little, and the cowboy found his mechanical limb functioning again. Not only that, but the shredded joint seemed entirely unscathed to him. There wasn’t even a scratch on it surface, it reflected the swirling grey sky as perfectly as a mirror. 

 

-Well I’ll be a donkey’s uncle. -Murmured the cowboy, slowly stretching his limb, and bending it again. - You monks don’t fuck around. – Gyaltsen nodded slowly. Somehow the lights behind his eyes were dimmed a little, he looked more weathered than before.  
-No, indeed we don’t. Come with my, we provide shelter and food and we can talk about the reason for your arrival.   
-Before that…-Came the strained voice of Lucio from behind them. The blood already stained most of his leg, and now dripped into the snow, creating small ruby crystals of ice. Widowmaker stood beside him with an impassive face.- Can I get some of that Mojo? - Gyaltsen nodded hurriedly and waved towards the remaining monks and disciples behind him. The initiates unfolded another stretcher and quickly placed the audio medic on it.   
-I am very sorry, we expected only one gravely wounded person. I apologise profusely. – Gyaltsen folded himself almost to the floor as the monks started to chant around the Brazilian musician. He waved his hand dismissively.   
-No problem. It was my fault for not speaking up sooner. By the way, this chanting is really awesome. I could compose something on the same rhythm if you give me one or two days. - Gyaltsen again, prostrated himself.  
-Do as you wish esteemed guest. I believe master Zanyetta would be more than happy if you did so. He is a …- The mechanical monk thought about a little. - “Fan”, of your style of music. But please, wait until your treatment is over. – The Overwatch agent gave the monk a thumb up.  
-Gottcha. I need some rest anyway. – Sighed Lucio and let the disciples carry him towards the same temple the cyborg archer was carried to. While they spoke, the snowstorm started in earnest, and turned much of the world into a white curtain. The small snow crystals gathered in the crevices of their outfits, and in the top of the Monks head. McCrees hair slowly turned white, in absence of his iconic cowboy hat. Now, the only remaining Shambali was Gyaltsen, who slowly inspected all of the remaining guests in front of him. Finding them in sufficiently good health to not be immediately treated he bowed.   
-Once again, I welcome you all to Shambali. Come with me, we could tend to your injuries in the temple. -Archangel nodded, trying not to put too much weight into his broken leg. Anna stepped towards him, and before he could wave her off, ducked under his arm to help him walk.   
-Don’t play the tough guy with me Reyes, I have seen you crying already. – Smiled the older woman.  
-You could have let Jesse help me. Or your protégé. -The aforementioned sniper was already out of earshot, close behind Gyaltsen who was leading them into the white horizon, apparently knowing the way to the temple by heart. Anna snorted shaking her head.  
-Are you calling me a weak old women Reyes? Have you already forgotten me saving your ass? – Archangel chuckled a little bit as an answer, glancing towards Gyaltsen apparently the monk moved just fast enough that they would never be out of sight, no matter how slow they moved. -And besides, if I let Jesse do it, he will definitely drop you, based on how worried he is. -The cowboy, hearing his name turned his head towards them.  
-Hmm? What? Do you need some help? – Archangel shook his head, slowly limping forward with his helper.   
-No need. We will manage. You clearly have your head full of Hanzo at the moment. – Said the leader of Overwatch with a small grunt when his broken foot touched a small stone statue, concealed by the fresh snow. The cowboy nodded a little bit.  
-My best friend and saved our lives. He was almost completely out, bleeding that horrible orange stuff, and still, he jumped off from our back and shot out his spirit dragon thing. Decimated a whole damned hallway I tell ya, without that, you could order a casket for me and Lucio. – Ana took the energy to give out a small whistle.  
-At that condition? No wonder he is at death door. – McCree sighed, the snow cascading from hair to his clothes, and further down to the ground. The snowstorm raged on, but fortunately a temple front melted out from the permeating whiteness, as if appearing from nothing. It was obviously very large, although the Overwatch agents couldn’t see further up than a couple of meters. Besides the door stood two omnic statues, in meditative pose, hovering thanks to some unseen mechanism. Thee door itself was about three-meter-tall, and twice as wide, made from thick dark brown wood. The surface of which was covered with intricate carvings. Most of carvings portrayed flowing sequences, mandalas, but there was a noticeable abundance of geometric shapes, and a little disturbingly, eyes. Above the door a couple of banners flapped in the icy gale, they depicted the symbol of Shambali. Gyaltsen stepped in front of the door, and it opened, seemingly by itself. McCree gave out a small approving murmur.   
-I have to admit, this spiritual magic thing is pretty amazing.   
-Actually, that was the motion sensor built into the door. But glad you are impressed. – Nodded slowly Gyaltsen and made his way inside.

 

Inside of the temple was a small hallway, around ten meters long. On the right side of the room were a couple of meditating mattresses, monks were either kneeling, or sat in meditative pose, slowly murmuring a chant. The small orbiting objects around them pulsed every time they repeated their mantra. On the left side of the room was a long communal table, behind every seat a small cord disappeared into the floor. A couple of disciples and monks, both omnic and human sat beside it. The human ones were eating, mostly vegetarian dishes with a couple of meaty ones mixed in here. While Shambali in fact didn’t forbid or even condone the consumption of “animal” substances, especially since most of their meat was either vat grown or was made from single cell proteins, some of the disciples came from strict Buddhist households. Their omnic brothers on the other hand, used the power cord to charge their batteries at the same time. Gyaltsen nodded towards the table and received a unified bow from the occupants around it. – Those who are unharmed can eat, while I take care of your injuries. - Turned Gyaltsen toward Archangel and motioned towards one of the empty meditating mattresses. The leader of Overwatch raised one of his eyebrows, but with Ana-s help he managed to hobble there and sat down. By the time Gyaltsen knelt beside him and placed his hands on his leg, Widowmaker was already at the table, at the most deserted part of it, eating something from a bowl. McCree glanced toward her, and then turned to Ana.  
-So I guess she isn’t really a fan of social activity. So, ma’am, how’s life has been threating you since you disappeared? – The sniper gave him a shrug.   
-Let’s sit down and eat something. I tell you while Reyes gets his leg fixed. 

\---

Hanzo screamed in pain. The suffering was unbearable. During his life he managed to get shot, stabbed, and even poisoned once, but the agony he felt now raged above all of that. In fact, it contended for the title of the worst suffering he ever received with the wounds he ended with after his duel with Genji. He was impaled on a sharp metal spike, the torture device entered his body from his shoulder, but he could feel it spreading thorny tentacles into his insides. He was alone in a fiery inferno, burning with orange light. His body refused to answer him, trying to move his muscles only resulted in the increase of the burning sensation coming from the fire, and also from the red-hot thorns inside his body. He gasped for air, trying to comprehend the situation. His body, was entirely organic, cyborg exterior couldn’t cause this much pain. The flames around him, glowed with an eerie harmful light, and shapes moved inside of them. Familiar shapes. The fire distorted, and a figure stumbled out from it…It was Genji, his face horribly burned and mutilated, but still recognisable.   
-Why brother…- He mumbled. -Why did you do this to me…- Hanzo tried to answer that he didn’t do it, it was Genji who won the duel, but instead of words only small whimpers came from his heat dried mouth. The apparition wearing the face of his brother still seemed to understand it. -But you would have…it was only luck. You would have mutilated your own brother…. Maybe even killed it. Just to…just to satisfy some old Yakuza. – Hanzo screamed as the pain became even sharper. Like million liquid knife pumping in his veins. The fire soared even higher, flames sprouted from the end of the spike he was impaled on, heating it.

Another figure materialised from the heat. It wasn’t a human this time, it was a dragon. Onyx black scales covering its serpentine body. Teeth like jagged obsidian, dripping with orange venom. Its eyes, they were red as blood. It looked malnourished, and every motion of it radiated malice and hunger. It was like a nightmarish twisted version of the Shimada clans sacred eastern dragons. The wyrm slowly coiled around the archer, until he could taste its vile breath. Then it spoke, with a long forgotten, but easily recognisable voice.  
-You have disappointed me, Hanzo. -Said the monstrous dragon, speaking with his father’s voice. The archer shuddered, the warm baritone which once read folk tales to him and Genji was now dripping with contempt. -You tried to kill your brother, your own flesh and blood…And worse, you failed your clan. – Hanzo tried to utter words, but his insides felt like a bag of crushed glass and organs. -No denial. No wonder I always favoured Genji…But that’s why you were so eager to kill him, aren’t you, Hanzo? – The Shimada tried to scream in protest, but only a pale whimper came from his throat. The pain blossomed even further and further, and he started to lose all the feeling. -Even in squalor, Genji worth twice as much as you ever will. – Giggled the black dragon apparently in evil delight.  
-Is that really how you remember your father? -Came a clear and calm voice with a slightly synthetic edge. It resonated, as if it originated from the very air itself. The voice swept away smaller fires, and the larger ones seemed to wither from it. The pain throbbing inside Hanzo started to slowly dissolve. The black dragon screamed in rage sniffing the air, trying to find its opponent. Golden glow filled the air, swirling surges of light dissolved the last bits of flames until only the snake like beast remained. – Its hard to heal the body, when the demons of soul crawl out to take advantage of the minds weakness. -Said the voice slowly. – It seems like you have yet to defeat your biggest inner demon. It might have been fate which lead you back to me to heal the scars of spirit as well as the body. -The light became blinding, forcing Hanzo to shut his eyes from the brilliance. The black dragon howled in pain and rage, but its voice became fainter by the second before its sank back to the unconscious. -Rest now Hanzo. -Said the voice, ringing with care. It seemed really familiar now.  
-Sensei…-Mouthed Hanzo with dried lips, before calm and soft blackness enveloped him. 

 

The sickly orange glow within the cyborgs body suddenly cut off, as if it was never existed. The spirit calmed, the mind went to rest, while the body stopped fighting with itself and turned its attention towards the now inactive nanobots, slowly eliminating them. The circle of monks around the archer’s body was stilly intact, the chant and orbiting objects around them created a golden glow in the air. The greatest among them, Tekhartha Zenyatta stumbled and stepped backwards, his optical sensors offline, but somehow still glowing with gentle light. He took a step forward again, re-joining the chant which surged around the room, slowly turning into a much calmer, thumping rhythm. Like a heartbeat in rest, their mantra consisted of two short phrases in Tibetan. 

“We are the Iris,  
We are the light.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the reading. I hope you like it.


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